Recovery
by Asika
Summary: The blue dragonflight wages war against the world's mages. The Lich King wages war against all living things. And yet, in the shadows, another threat lurks, nameless and waiting for a time to strike. It will take the death of a loved one to help one man overcome his survivor's guilt and realize that life is worth living, even after tragedy, as war rages on around him.
1. Chapter 1

The winds of Northrend whistled around the eyeslit of Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge's helm. Her eyes immediately stung and with hardly a thought she shifted to put her back more squarely to the wind, hunching against the slivers of stabbing cold air that brought tears to her eyes and froze her eyelashes to frosty spears.

Beneath her her horse shifted, snorted, sending twin billows of misty white blasting from its nostrils. Absently she patted the stallion's side - he didn't like the cold anymore than she did, but they had to wait.

Around her four others, also mounted, shifted in the biting cold where they stood awaiting their chance to enter the Crusader's Coliseum, hands freezing into claws curled around the lances they held. It had been...gods, how long HAD it been since Jenna had first traveled up to this frigid wasteland? She couldn't even recall; all the days of mounted combat, of battling back Scourge and cultists, of competing against Horde and Alliance valiants alike...all had turned into one timeless blur that had led up to this one moment.

On a chestnut mare to her left was a female draenei in battered silvery plate armor. Jenna remembered seeing that armor when it was new, back when both females had first met at Argent Stand, in Zul'Drak. That armor had seen far more combat than was healthy, and yet it and the one wearing it still cheerfully swung a sword wherever they were needed. The two females had become friends as their situation required they fight alongside one another, and now as Jenna looked at her the draenei turned to meet her gaze.

Carona was an odd one, as far as draenei went. She seemed to relish the idea of combat, glorified it in such a way as to make a sort of religion out of battle; her highest honor would be to die in the midst of the conflict and to take as many of her enemies with her as possible. It was a character trait that, while it had often gotten both her and Jenna into trouble in Zul'Drak, it had also allowed Carona to advance with relative ease through the rigors of the Argent Tournament.

Now Jenna could almost see Carona quivering in excitement - not the cold, never because of the cold - as the draenei nudged her mount closer.

"Wish they'd get those doors open already," was her greeting, her mount pulling up alongside Jenna's stallion as she nodded toward the heavy wooden doors separating them from the main floor of the arena.

"I'd do anything to get out of this wind," Jenna replied.

Carona snorted heavily, turning to face the human fully so she could see the draenei's wild smile through the t-shape slit in her helm. "Cold weapons slice all the cleaner."

"I highly doubt we'll be killing anyone, Carona," Jenna said wryly.

The draenei shrugged emphatically and went silent, drumming armored fingers on armored thigh.

Jenna rolled her eyes and reached up to adjust her helm - her hair, thick and copper-red and currently coiled in braids on top of her head, was slipping free around her ears. She quickly tugged off her helm and readjusted her braids, sputtering at the frigid air roaring around her ears.

Just as she shoved the helm back on Carona squealed and slapped her arm sharply. "Here we go!"

The twin wooden doors were swinging ponderously open and as they did a dull roaring reached them, a sound that swelled out around the five gathered outside and gathered in momentum like a tidal wave. Within moments it was deafening, and Jenna felt her heart begin to race as it always did before a battle as the doors swung fully open and revealed a stadium full of cheering beings.

Together, she and her four 'team mates' moved inside.

To their right those of the Horde filled the stands - she could even make out the form of the Warchief Thrall among his people, watching Jenna and the others enter with an air of interest. The rowdy members of the Horde fluctuated between cheering and booing them, Jenna's team being made up entirely of races from the Alliance, though Thrall himself showed neither animosity or excitement.

Jenna's gaze roamed the crowd slowly, heart thudding in her ribs. In the center, in front of her, Highlord Tirion Fordring was announcing something to the crowd with his people bearing the colors of the Argent Crusade gathered around him. She couldn't process what the Highlord was saying - the noise, the general chaos of the crowd, it was a bit too overwhelming - but whatever he said brought forth further cheers from the crowd, and it was apparently some cue to a blood elf - no, she corrected herself, a _high elf - _to come to the center of the coliseum from where he had originally been standing near the gate entrance behind them.

Jenna recognized him, of course. It was Arelas Brightstar, representative herald of the games at the tournament for the Silver Covenant. It was he, swooping over the skies of Dalaran on the back of a hippogryph, that had drawn her attention to the tournament itself - it was entirely Arelas's fault, as it were, that she and Carona were even here.

Arelas reached the center and held his hands up. The crowd surged in one last round of rowdy cheering then fell mostly quiet as Arelas then bowed deeply to Fordring.

"The Silver Covenant is pleased to present their contenders for this event, Highlord."

He paused as there was a scattering of hoots and yells, then nodded and began to introduce those who stood with Jenna.

Seeing now that she would likely be announced last, Jenna let her gaze roam once more...and it settled on a sight that nearly knocked her from her saddle.

Seated in the front row clearly overlooking the arena was a man and woman, both familiar faces to anyone in the Alliance. The woman was blonde and dressed in the robes of her office as leader in Theramore, Jaina Proudmoore. Beside her however sat a man with dark hair pulled into a ponytail set high on his skull, clad in armor with a magnificent sword hanging from his belt. His face was stern, his features dark, with a deep scar running over the bridge of his nose. Seeing him made Jenna's face flush and her innards cramp in excitement and anxiety. King Varian Wrynn was here, and he would be watching her fight.

"...formidable opponent, and champions speak highly of this brave warrior. Today we present Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge."

Jenna barely heard, eyes still on Varian, and jerked in surprise when Carona reached over and jabbed fingers into her side.

"Wave, acknowledge the crowd," the draenei hissed to her over the noise.

Jenna raised a hand and gave a sort of flat wave, trying to drag her gaze away from her king in the stands. Carona leaned over the woman and followed her gaze, then groaned audibly when she too caught sight of Varian.

"Oh for the Light's sake, Jenna. Ignore him and come on, or do you wish to make a fool of yourself in his presence? This is neither the time nor place for stage fright."

Jenna swallowed hard, finally managed to stare down into her lap at the saddlehorn in front of her, then raised her gaze again to Varian. Before Carona could stop her Jenna's hand was back up, this time raising her lance in a salute.

To Jenna's delight and embarrassment she could see Varian's eyes widen briefly in surprise, and then he nodded ever so slightly to her. His acknowledgment of her personal salute made her stomach leap and spin and tie itself into knots, and brought a wide smile to her face.

Before Carona could remark upon it the wooden doors were opening again, and Jenna forced her attention away from her king, away from Carona, and focused instead on their opponents entering the ring. It was to be a five versus five battle, first displaying horsemanship and mounted combat, then a brief battle on foot. A tauren, a blood elf, a Forsaken, an orc, and a troll rode in slowly; the Horde-filled side of the arena erupted in such cheering that Jenna's ears began ringing dully.

Arelas introduced them as they rode passed him, then he once more bowed to the crowd and retreated back to standing near the big wooden gate.

Once Arelas was clear Tirion Fordring stood, the coliseum going quiet.

"Welcome champions," he called. "Today, before the eyes of your leaders and peers, you will prove yourself worthy combatants."

"I have no taste for these games, Tirion," Varian shouted in reply. "Still, I trust they will perform admirably."

Jenna's innards twisted in on themselves again as she felt her face color in pleasure, but the pleasure quickly evaporated like fog in the sun when a massive orc seated next to Thrall stood up.

"Admirably? HA! I will enjoy watching your weak little champions fail, _human."_

Carona's hand was suddenly clamped around Jenna's upper arm, restraining the human woman from charging forward even as Thrall turned to admonish the orc for his outburst.

"Focus, focus," the draenei hissed.

Jenna bit down hard on her lip, briefly tasting blood even as she heard her pulse roaring in her ears - the nerve of that green-skinned, nasty _brute-_

Tirion seemed unfazed by the outburst. "You will first be facing five of the Grand Champions of the tournament! These fierce contenders have beaten out all others to reach the pinnacle of skill in the joust."

Jenna studied each of the Horde members in front of her as Tirion continued speaking, gaze finally settling on the troll astride his raptor. The tauren and the orc looked too heavy for her to unseat in one passing, but the troll...on that raptor, with only the saddle to keep him seated, she might have a good chance of sending him to the dirt in one charge - she knew without even looking that Carona had already chosen the blood elf as her target, and Jenna even felt a bit sorry for the elf having been the recipient of Carona's charges in sparring practices in the past. She'd leave the two heavier males to Randalan or Adam ("they couldnae' pronounce me name, I shortened it"), night elf ranger and dwarf paladin respectively.

"Begin!"

Jenna immediately kicked her horse into motion, slowly lowering her lance as the distance between her and the troll - and he knew she was coming for him - rapidly shrank. Just before they met she closed her eyes and lowered her head, knowing from weeks of practice that her lance would hit its intended target if she just kept her arm straight.

Mere seconds later there was impact. Jenna felt the troll's lance strike her off-center, at the bottom of her ribcage and slightly to the right; it grated along her plate chestpiece and then slid between her elbow and her body. Before she truly had a chance to move with the blow her own lance struck, jabbing squarely into the troll's solar plexus, blasting the male from his saddle and nearly tearing the lance free of her grip. With her hand on the reins she directed her own mount off to the left to avoid running into the now riderless raptor and to also avoid trampling the dismounted troll.

Without warning the mounted orc was suddenly beside her, lance forgotten as the massive male simply reached out to grab and drag her from the saddle. Jenna leaned back and his hand shot by, flailing to get a hand on her saddle horn as she overbalanced and nearly toppled off her horse backwards. The orc drew back, off-balance himself, and directed his slavering wolf away, circling to come at her again.

Her lance tip was pointed at the ground and she wouldn't have the chance to get it up into position before the orc was on top of her again. She instead let it drop and turned her horse into a headlong charge - the human could hear, at some level of consciousness, the collective gasp of the crowd - leaning low over the animal's neck. Even from here she could see the mocking grin on the orc's face: surely he thought she'd accidentally dropped it.

Little did he know.

She'd never tried it before with so heavy an opponent but Jenna had a single, last-ditch maneuver in the joust. Having practiced it on Carona more than once, Jenna knew that she had a small chance to unseat an opponent without a lance in hand...it took a considerable combination of luck and skill, and if she missed she'd be in for a world of hurt, but...

With King Varian Wrynn looking on, she had a gut feeling she wouldn't fail.

As the orc drew closer Jenna let her right arm fly out wide, hand flexing and leaving her midsection exposed. Predictably the orc adjusted his aim to make up for her movement, and Jenna focused on the tip of his lance and blocked out everything else. Time seemed to slow down as it usually did for her when she knew something painful was coming her direction; the tip grew closer, and when it was barely a foot from striking her she dropped her shoulder back and twisted in the saddle. The lance tip cleared her side by a scant few inches, and now Jenna clamped her hand down on the shaft of the lance and rolled with it off her horse.

To his credit the orc released the lance fairly quickly but not quick enough to prevent it from snagging between his arm and body, catching him in the small of his back and wrenching his arm back behind him. Jenna let go of the lance and rolled to her feet; she hadn't unseated him but she'd definitely disarmed him and...judging by the murderous look in his eyes as he came around, she'd also managed to make him quite angry.

A quick glance around the arena showed that she was more or less on her own with the orc: Randalan was busily keeping the Forsaken rogue at bay, nimbly using his bow to turn aside the blades of the undead fighter; Adam was trading blows with the tauren; Carona had engaged the troll Jenna had sent to the floor, but Jenna knew the draenei would gladly take on another opponent if given half the chance; her other team mate, a female gnome that Jenna realized she didn't know the name of, was scurrying around with a steady trail of fireballs thudding into the ground on her heels.

Jenna turned back to the orc and quickly took inventory of what she had to work with - a sword and shield strapped to her back, a dagger in one boot, and two maces hanging from her belt...none of them really meant to defend against a mounted attack.

Then her gaze fell on the fallen lance, and an idea formed.

She snatched it up and threw it without bothering to even aim; the distance between herself and the orc was rapidly shrinking and he was close enough that aiming wouldn't matter, not with the way she threw the lance - instead of launching it like a javelin she lobbed it sideways, about four feet off the floor and parallel to it, arching gently toward the oncoming wolf.

The wolf, at its rider's command, tried to jump over the sudden obstacle but ended up hitting the lance anyway, tripping and hitting the ground hard enough to throw the orc free. He hit the floor and rolled once, coming up on his feet and charging her on foot.

Mentally swearing - how something that large could move that fast was beyond her - Jenna barely sidestepped as the orc came at her with a wide sweep of a mace the size of her torso. She grabbed her maces off her belt and set her feet to hopefully turn aside another charge, choosing not to bother with her sword and shield just yet - then growled when he pulled a shield of his own off his back, holding that giant mace easily in one hand.

Without warning a heavy object whistled by her ear, whatever it was racing for the orc and causing him to whip his shield up; the thing twanged loudly off its metal surface, even leaving a dent behind. Jenna glanced down briefly to see a broad-headed arrow fall to the ground then looked over her shoulder to see Randalan fitting another one of his modified arrows to his bow, drawing it back and firing a second shot at the orc before being forced to dance aside as now both the troll and the Forsaken went after him, Carona right on the heels of the troll and screaming like a banshee.

"Not now Randalan, not now," Jenna growled though she smiled at the sight of the draenei chasing down the troll. Rushing at the orc before he had time to recover she caught him off-balance and hammered at his shield with both maces, forcing him back several steps, then was forced herself to fall back as that shield rose and the gigantic mace came swinging through at gut-height.

There was a surge of noise in the crowd, a collection of gasping and groaning from the Alliance and cheers from the Horde. Sidestepping another powerful swing Jenna attempted to scan the battle and see what had just occurred but was instead abruptly blasted to the side and sent rolling, rattling across the wooden floor, as a fireball blindsided her. She landed on her back, her feet toward the orc - who looked just as surprised as she was - and now she looked down the length of her body in time to see the blood elf female taking aim at her again with her orc companion stepping aside to give her a clear shot.

Just beyond the blood elf Jenna could see where two humans, clad in the colors of the Argent Crusade, were lifting the gnome off the floor, the little one senseless and limp between them. That certainly explained why the elf now had time to come after Jenna.

Jenna rolled and came up onto one knee, maces in hand, then threw herself back to the floor as the blood elf adjusted her aim and nearly took Jenna's head off with a fireball. Raising her gaze Jenna grunted when she realized that now the orc stood over her, weapon raised high. She at least had a choice now: blow to the back or rolling aside and getting blasted by fire, or...

Jenna lunged forward awkwardly as the orc struck, and she shuddered as she felt the mace strike the floor between her knees. Angered the male kicked her aside, sending Jenna into another roll but this time the human was in control of her movements, coming up smoothly to one knee and using her momentum to launch one of the maces she held.

She was close enough to see the orc's eyes widen as he brought up his shield hastily. The mace struck the shield at an angle and deflected off, and instead struck the outstretched arm of the blood elf with a loud crack. The spell the blood elf had been about to release fizzled as she screeched in pain and dropped to her knees, cradling her injured arm against her chest - Jenna felt a slight twinge of guilt as she saw that the arm now had a new joint midway between wrist and elbow.

There was another groan from the Alliance as, out of the corner of one eye, Jenna saw Randalan hit the floor and hit hard. His Forsaken opponent stood over him, blades dropping to the floor as he bent over and rested hands on his knees, breathing hard, bleeding and bruised in several places. Whether he planned on picking up his weapons and continuing the fight or ending it there was decided for him by Carona as the draenei, still going toe to toe with her opponent, managed to get close enough to grapple the troll. Her sword went flying as she grabbed him and spun, releasing him to send him flying into the Forsaken male, both hitting the wall and falling in a tangle of limbs not far from where Randalan still lay motionless.

It was apparent all three males were out of the battle when the same two humans from before scurried out to pull them from the arena.

Watching three of his team mates get removed from the fight had made the orc cautious, at least. He now circled Jenna warily, moving to put her between him and her own remaining team mates; Adam and the tauren were off in their own world of sorts, both battering at one another with hardly a glance for anyone else. Carona was retrieving her weapon and looking between the orc and the tauren, obviously sizing each up as she decided which she wanted to go after next.

Jenna made a small hand gesture at the draenei, pointing at the tauren - she wanted to finish this orc off on her own.

The orc caught the gesture and his eyes narrowed. Expertly he twirled his mace in his hand, then banged it against his shield. Taunting her to come on.

Jenna stood up and returned her remaining mace to her belt, then drew her sword - then jumped, literally, as the entire arena floor shook. Seeing that the orc's attention was somewhere over her shoulder she turned, now seeing that the tauren was prone on the floor and signaling that he was done. Carona and Adam both began heading toward Jenna and the orc, and Jenna turned back to him as well.

The orc glared at her openly, then dropped to one knee and lowered his mace. Surrendering.

The Alliance spectators erupted into cheering so loud Jenna's ears rang. She went to re-sheath her sword, gritting her teeth as the orc purposely shoulder-checked her as he walked by heading for the wooden gate. If they had been anywhere other than an arena full of their peers then she likely would have demanded an apology, but...they had won. She needed to let the slight go and focus on their next challenge.

And a challenge it would be, as they were down two members of their team.

Carona and Adam joined her where she stood and the three in unison turned as Tirion stood to speak again. Once everyone was quiet enough, he nodded to them.

"Well fought! Your next challenge comes from the Crusade's own ranks. You will be tested against their considerable prowess."

Suddenly Arelas was back in the center of the arena. "Entering the arena, a paladin who is no stranger to the battlefield or tournament ground, the Grand Champion of the Argent Crusade, Eadric the Pure!"

The wooden gates creaked open and a man flanked on all four sides by an honor guard of eight Crusade members walked in. He bowed slightly to Arelas as the high elf returned to his post beside the door, then he waved away his escorts and turned to the face the three standing before him.

"Are you up to the challenge?" he asked, eying them doubtfully. "I will not hold back."

Carona stepped forward, leveling her sword at him. "Do not underestimate us solely because we are three when we should be five. The odds are still in our favor, lord paladin."

He nodded, hefted his mace and lifted his shield. "Prepare yourselves!"

Jenna lightly tapped the top of Adam's helm as Eadric advanced. "Adam?"

"Aye, lass?"

"Are you up for being our shieldman?"

"T'would be me pleasure."

Jenna passed him her shield and remaining mace in the final few seconds before both Carona and Eadric charged. The two met in the middle of the arena with a resounding crash, Eadric hastily raising his shield to fend off Carona's frenzied strikes. The draenei battered away at the paladin, managing to actually drive Eadric back several steps, but finally the man managed to tuck his shield in close and leap back; Carona's next swing struck nothing but empty air and she staggered, slightly off-balance.

Eadric struck, first his mace clipping the stumbling draenei's shoulder and then his shield slammed squarely into her face. Carona reeled backwards, tip of her sword dragging the ground as she tried to stay upright; Adam leapt in front of her and turned aside Eadric's next blow, letting the paladin's mace bounce off his borrowed shield. Dwarf and human traded blows as Jenna slipped around Adam and hurried to pull Carona upright.

"I'm fine," the draenei said after a moment, shaking her head to clear it.

"Let's go then. Remember Light's Breach?" Jenna asked, grinning though she knew Carona couldn't see it behind her helm.

Carona snorted, then laughed. "Should I shove or should you?"

"I'll dive, go left."

The two women separated and circled the two males still hammering away at one another, Carona moving left and Jenna sheathing her sword and crouching down. She watched the draenei step carefully around the fighting pair, until Eadric was more or less directly between them, then she raised her sword and charged. Jenna charged too, but she kept her crouched position and once she was within a few feet of the Crusader she dove for his legs. Her right shoulder slammed into him just below his knee and Jenna grasped him and lifted as she pushed forward, Carona striking the paladin high. It was a maneuver the two females had accidentally performed in Light's Breach during their attempts to drive back a marauding death knight that had been bent on Scourging the wolvar - Jenna had been tripped up by the death knight's little army of grasping ghouls and slammed into the death knight's back just as Carona struck out at him. The end result had been one surprised and angry death knight who glared up at them until the very moment that Carona took his head from his shoulders. They hadn't tried the stunt more than a few times since then, but...there was no time like the present, and the paladin was definitely unsuspecting.

Eadric let out an enraged grunt as his feet were shoved out from under him and he flipped up and over Jenna's shoulders and rolled down her back to crash to the floor partly on his head, partly on his back.

Jenna planted a foot and spun around, drawing her sword as she did. Adam and Carona flanked her and the three went for the fallen paladin. For one brief instant Jenna could see shock registering on Eadric's face, then the world exploded in a blast of white light.

"Hammer of the Righteous!"

Blinded, aware of Eadric's location only because of his shout, Jenna simply dropped to the ground and gripped her sword tightly. What followed Eadric's declaration was a loud clash and a noisy exhalation punctuated with a rattling thud.

The world was slowly fading back into view for Jenna, the human able to see through a hazy blur if she squinted her watering eyes. Carona was on her feet and moving to engage Eadric and Adam was nowhere to be seen, but Jenna's gaze fell on her shield a few feet away and cringed when she saw the single massive dent in the center. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions: Adam was being carried from the arena.

Eadric and Carona began to battle, sword and mace ringing as they ceased fighting in any recognizable style and solely focused on beating the stuffing out of one another. Unnoticed on the ground Jenna crawled over and grabbed her shield, running fingers over the deep dent. She slipped it on, barely able to get her hand through the straps on the back - that dent had damaged the shield likely beyond repair...but for the moment it would suffice.

Jenna stood and charged with a cry. Eadric ducked a sword swing from Carona and parried Jenna's thrust with his mace, and now the paladin was expertly turning aside the attacks of both females utilizing shield and weapon. Several minutes of arm-numbing strikes with nothing to show for it went by - Eadric left no openings for the two to take advantage of, and Jenna was beginning to wonder if the three would simply battle their way to a stalemate, and then it happened.

She would never be certain how she knew, but Jenna..._saw _something in the paladin's eyes, in his mannerisms. A tightening of the skin around the eyes and mouth, a tensing of the body, perhaps even divine intervention...whatever it was, Jenna suddenly had the sense that the paladin was about to try something. She raised her shield before her face, part of her wondering what had possessed her, but then...then she saw the flash of light fill the arena, and heard Carona's frustrated cry.

Jenna lowered the shield to see, with equal degrees of amazement and alarm, that Eadric held in his hands crackling hammers of energy.

"Hammer of the Righteous!" he roared, throwing the one in his left hand at the blinded draenei warrior.

It struck Carona just below her breasts, dead center; the draenei nearly bent in half around the hammer, blasted from her feet and toppling to the arena floor in a heap. She feebly tried getting up, scraping her hooves across the floor but finding no strength and no purchase to level herself upright; in a few seconds the draenei went still. Jenna was alone.

Jenna turned her attention back to Eadric in time to see the paladin let fly with that second hammer. She could see it coming, tumbling end over end in a smooth but powerful throw.

Jenna exhaled, inhaled, in rhythm with the spinning mace, threw her sword from her and reached out. With one heel digging into the floor she snatched at the mace, was amazed at both the fact that she caught it and the force behind the weapon; she used the momentum of the flung mace to spin on her heel, coming around in a neat circle and releasing the hammer in a throw with as much might behind it as she could muster.

The returned mace struck Eadric in about the same area as Eadric's throw had struck Carona. The paladin was lifted off his feet and thrown to the ground, landing on his back and skidding a foot or so. Jenna charged for him, hardly registering that she had no weapon in hand, but she skidded to a halt when he lifted a hand and waved.

"I yield! I submit!"

The spectators exploded into raucous cheering as Jenna stood there, amazed; Eadric, one arm wrapped around his chest, rolled to his feet and limped from the arena, only pausing to wave halfheartedly to the crowd before disappearing through the open gate.

Hands shaking, Jenna turned to look up into the crowd. Everyone was cheering, and cheering for _her - _including her lord Varian Wrynn. She flushed in pleasure as she took in the sight of him nodding and applauding in approval, and absently allowed a smiling Arelas to guide her to the center of the arena.

Tirion was talking but she couldn't understand over the crowd, but suddenly Arelas stiffened beside her.

"What's that, near the rafters?" she heard him ask.

She looked at him, then followed his pointing finger to look up toward the sky, near the open air where the wooden gate was attached to the rest of the arena's structure. There, floating on a skeletal gryphon, was an undead being clad in blackened plate armor. As they watched the rider, his face hidden behind his helm, guided his mount down to land hardly ten feet from where Arelas and Jenna stood.

"You spoiled my grand entrance, rat," the figure hissed.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tirion roared over the noise of the crowd.

The figure didn't answer, didn't even glance up at the paladin. He gestured and Jenna felt something distinctly evil _whoosh _by her, and suddenly Arelas cried out and was almost instantly silenced. The high elf was lifted from his feet a few inches as a ring of smoky black chain appeared around his neck; he clawed at his throat and then was soaring away from her even as Jenna reached out to help him, the spell the undead man had cast constricting as the elf hit the ground. Jenna heard his final gargle and heard the snapping of his neck, and turned to face the undead figure with a fury.

The undead stalked toward her, unstrapping a massive sword from his back that was as long as Jenna was tall.

"Did you honestly think an agent of the Lich King would be bested on the field of your pathetic little tournament?"

Jenna hefted her shield and gripped her sword tightly as he stopped a few feet from her and fixed her with a red-eyed glare.

"I have come to finish my task." He chuckled a moment, then lifted his sword above his head. "This farce ends here!"

Jenna ducked and felt the wind of the passing blade despite her armor, and barely got her shield up in time to block the man's next attack. With a start, she suddenly realized she recognized him: he was the man known only as the Black Knight, someone she had bested in the joust and also someone she knew had finally been killed to put an end to the mysterious deaths of several of the tournament's competitors.

Suddenly, she heard Tirion shout. "No! Let her try! If our champions fall here then what hope have they against the full force of the Lich King?" He looked around at every spectator. "No one move! No one assist her!"

Jenna spared a glance up into the crowd and saw to her surprise that Varian himself was on his feet, hands on his weapon and standing as though he meant to leap down to assist her in the fight. Jaina had a hand on his arm, looking uncertainly between him and Fordring, but Varian grudgingly glared at the paladin then cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Don't just stand there, kill him!"

The Black Knight threw back his head and laughed, filling the immediate area around him and Jenna with an unbearably foul stench. "Kill me? A pathetic creature such as yourself has no hope, little girl. I will kill you, and then...I will kill your sorry little play-king."

A rage unlike any Jenna had ever experienced rose within her at those words. "You will not so much as lay a finger on my king, aberration," she snarled, attacking with renewed fury.

Her sword felt as light as a feather in her hand and she relentlessly struck again and again, feeling a manic glee as the knowledge that she was forcing the Black Knight to give ground, to back up under the might of her blows, pierced the red-tinged fog that held her. On and on she hammered away, and was as surprised as the Black Knight was when he suddenly toppled backwards, tripping over something that clattered against the toes of Jenna's boots.

She looked down and saw that her discarded mace, the one she had handed to Adam, was laying on the floor. In one swift movement she ripped her shield off and scooped up the dropped weapon, then laid into the Black Knight before he had a chance to fully get his feet under him. The undead man wobbled on his unsteady footing, half-raised onto one knee with the other leg trailing behind him, and then he lost his balance and tipped.

Jenna's sword found its mark then, biting deep into the rotted flesh of his left shoulder and nearly severing it entirely. The knight's sword drooped to the ground as Jenna followed up the sword blow with a swing of her mace, striking the Black Knight where shoulder and neck met and driving him down further. She lifted the mace and struck again, this time hitting him squarely in the side of the head and denting the helm.

Still offering no resistance the Black Knight half-knelt there and didn't so much as blink as Jenna swung her sword parallel to the ground and took his head from his body. The sight of foul-smelling blood erupting from the severed neck seemed to snap Jenna from her haze, and she backed away rapidly as the headless body fell forward.

The onlookers cheered and Jenna turned her face up to Varian, smiling when she saw the look of fierce triumph written on his face as he looked upon her...and she was puzzled when that look of triumph turned to one of alarm.

She registered a clattering noise behind her, and whirled around to see that the Black Knight was...reassembling himself, rising up and leaving a revolting pile of gore behind as his bones drew together. He reached out one hand and retrieved his severed head, calmly removing his helm and flicking gobbets of flesh off the skull.

"My rotting flesh was merely getting in the way," he hissed, jamming his head on and standing, thrusting one hand high above his head. "Unfortunate for you that you are all alone, for I am not. _I am never alone_!"

Jenna glanced around in alarm as dark chasms began opening in the ground, pits of darkness that sent tendrils of black and purple energy twisting up toward the sky. Arms began to appear from within the darkness, and mere seconds later ten ghouls in various stages of rot clambered from the openings and assembled behind their master.

His skeletal face leering at her, the knight signaled and the ghouls attacked.

In an instant Jenna's world was reduced to a blurred flurry of grasping hands and snapping teeth, and it was all she could do to keep the ghouls in front of her and off of her as she worked her sword and mace back and forth to keep them at bay. She backed up rapidly as she fought, keeping the bulk of the rotting creatures in her immediate front; she was fortunate in that, with a group of such size, so long as she kept them all in front of her hardly more than four of them could rush at her at a time – any more than that and they ran into one another.

A mostly lucky blow of the mace tore open the ribcage of one ghoul, causing it to hunch over weirdly as most of the muscle supporting it and keeping it upright ripped free and hit the floor with a wet and meaty smack. That ghoul fell back and an uninjured one took its place and took the followup blow Jenna had intended for the first one; her swordtip came up and under the ghoul's chin, slicing the jawbone in half and plunging deep into the ghoul's skull. Shaking the sword free nearly pulled the head off entirely, but the ghoul simply slumped to the ground in pieces as whatever magic holding it together dissipated.

One had managed to circle around to her side and now latched onto her sword arm, biting down hard enough that Jenna feared her bones would crack. She could hear the scrape of the ghoul's teeth down the plate piece strapped to her forearm, then felt the catch as the mouth slid off the plate and lodged instead in the mail she wore beneath it. Now working her mace frantically to keep the ghouls at bay, she angrily ripped her arm forward and across her body; the ghoul dragged across the floor and between her and two others. Their rabid strikes struck the ghoul on her arm instead, more or less tearing it apart and leaving little more than a set of teeth and part of a jaw attached to her arm. Now freed, Jenna swung the sword in a backhanded motion and cleaved the two helpful ghouls in half, then bashed in the skull of a third.

Then, in a sudden panic, Jenna realized she'd lost sight of the Black Knight.

Her backwards movements had finally backed her to a wall and she slammed her back up against it, relieved in the knowledge that now no ghoul could come at her from behind, but where was the Black Knight?

She had her answer as she felt an icy presence immediately followed by a bitingly cold strangling sensation around her neck. Her remaining ghoul attackers leapt away to reveal the Black Knight, his arm stretched toward her. As her feet left the ground Jenna recalled the attack used on Arelas, and recalled the crack of his neck snapping that made a tight ball of despair and fear form in her gut.

The urge to drop her weapons and pry the dark wispy chains from her throat was nearly overwhelming but she knew from having seen the spell before that no amount of prying on her part would remove the chains, and providing she survived this spell dropping her weapons now would prove to be suicidal later.

He let her hang in the air a few moments, sneering at her, then gestured. She slammed once, twice, into the wall behind her and then was flung into the air, up and over the Black Knight's head. She struck the floor hard and went into a roll, and when she finally came to a stop she was laying flat on her back nearly at the base of the wooden gates. Breathing hurt, even the idea of moving hurt, and so for the moment all she could do was lay there and focus on continuing to inhale and exhale; Jenna watched the Black Knight out of the corner of one eye, watched as he smugly flicked his bony fingers at his ghoul minions, all of them crumpling to the floor in dismissal. The arena had gone deathly quiet, quiet enough that Jenna could hear the rasp of the Black Knight's blade as the tip dragged across the wooden planks of the floor as he stalked toward her.

Jenna twitched her fingers, numbly acknowledging that at some point in her flight, or maybe in her landing, she had lost her sword: the handle of her mace was solid and comforting in her hand, but her other was empty. The tightness in her chest was beginning to loosen but she remained on the floor, watching.

"And now, it ends," he heard him chuckle.

She fixed her gaze on the tip of the sword, tracked it as it swung up and then came back down. Urging her battered body to move, Jenna rolled toward the skeletal knight. The sword crashed into the floor behind her; grunting in pain as she forced herself to move, Jenna came up on one knee and swept her mace sideways in a two-handed grip. Her blow struck and shattered one kneecap then continued through to crack into the other leg.

She was leaping on top of him even as he crashed to the floor, straddling his ribcage and raising her mace high. With his sword out to his side and of a size too big to effectively bring to bear against her, he was fatally vulnerable and he knew it; his look of rage disappeared as Jenna brought her weapon down to smash into his face again and again, not stopping her pounding until his skull was little more than a pile of splintery fragments and the bones beneath her fell apart with a clatter.

Panting raggedly and aching horribly, Jenna stood and steadied herself; the entire arena was on its feet and yelling wildly, making her ears ring something fierce. She swallowed, faintly tasting blood, and looked around, spotting her sword not too far away. Jenna staggered towards it, bent and picked it up, then heard the hiss behind her. Spinning around she saw a dark aura rising from the bones of the fallen knight.

"I have no need for bones to best you!"

The voice was airy, ethereal, and despite the noise of the spectators - who didn't seem to realize something more was happening - Jenna could hear it, and there was no mistaking who it belonged to. The aura gathered itself into a shape that was roughly humanoid, hardly visible except for two claw-like hands, and from between those hands came a bolt of force that was white and wispy yet hit like a solid blow.

Wholly unprepared Jenna took the bolt in a shoulder and the force of it spun her around and down to one knee where a second bolt struck her in the lower back and sent her sprawling face-first. As she struggled to get back up a third bolt caught her in the joint between her helm and her neck guard; her hair was suddenly falling around her face as the plate helm was blasted off her head and sent soaring across the arena. Helplessly she watched its flight, then her eyes widened when she saw it: her shield was laying on the ground, forgotten, barely ten feet away from her.

A fourth bolt skimmed off her back, partially deflected by the angle of her plate armor, and Jenna jolted forward, skittering on hands and knees toward that shield. She managed to get halfway to her feet then simply leapt for it once close enough, grabbing it and spinning around to get it between her and the ghostly Black Knight.

Just as she got it solidly between them the knight fired another bolt. It rocketed to her and struck the shield in the dead center of the dent Eadric had put it in. To Jenna's surprise the bolt reflected _directly back _at its caster, exploding into the Black Knight and scattering his mist-like form, revealing some sort of black core. Jenna was up and on her feet, the shield slipping from her hands as she brought all her strength to deal what would be one final blow, one way or another.

"_Stay dead, Light damn you!" _she shrieked, bringing her sword down in a mighty overhead swing, striking the revealed core and slicing it in half.

"No! I must not fail...again..." came the ghostly wail as the core dropped to the ground in two pieces, and the rest of him disappeared.

Jenna dropped to one knee, her wrists resting across the hilt of her sword that was now point-down on the floor, panting.

* * *

It was late when Jenna finally reached the tent pavilion set aside for the forging and repairing of weapons and armor. She was relieved to see that no one else was inside the toasty tent - she had spent the rest of her day being constantly bombarded by people all wishing to congratulate her on a battle well-fought and frankly she was tired of dealing with them.

She tied the tent flap closed against the wind and slipped off her heavy cloak. The tent was built atop heavy wooden planking that surrounded the great furnace and forge in its center. The forge itself was big enough for six people to work comfortably around it, and there was an assortment of work benches and tables along with water troughs evenly spaced around it. After the cold of outside the heat from the forge felt overwhelming, but Jenna knew she would grow used to the change in temperature in time, and simply walked to the forge with shield and sword in hand.

'I ought to make that Eadric fellow hammer this out,' she thought dryly, rubbing fingers in the deep dent in the shield's center. She had her shield and some nicks and a slight bend in the blade of her sword to repair and once again was thankful that no one was currently in the tent.

She set about getting together the things she would need, then placed her sword in the furnace to heat and leaned against a wooden work bench to wait.

Idly she reached up and began unbraiding her hair, having not touched it since her battle in the arena, letting it fall around her face and shoulders as she combed her fingers through the frizzy mess. She hated braiding her hair; braids kept sweat held in close to her scalp and made it itch and as she ran her fingers through it she scratched madly. Once she reached a point where her fingers were no longer getting caught in snarls and knots, she took one of the leather thongs that had secured the braids and tied it all back into one loose ponytail at the nape of her neck.

Feeling oddly refreshed she checked her sword and then slipped on a thick leather apron and gloves and tugged it free from the coals, carefully transporting it to an anvil so she could work on it.

She had just finished her sword and was in the process of sharpening it when she felt a blast of cold air against her back. A glance over her shoulder showed her a single person slipping into the tent, feet clattering against the wooden floor as whoever it was stamped snow from their legs and then retied the tent flap.

"I thought I'd find you hiding in here."

Jenna smiled as Carona began unwinding her winter wear, the draenei shaking her short black hair back from her face and tossing her cloak over a table.

"I'm not hiding, I'm working," Jenna replied, carefully checking the blade's edge with her thumb. It wasn't as keen as it had been before, not yet, but her arms were beginning to ache some and so she set it aside. "Did you need something?"

"Just you," Carona responded. The female came up and perched on a nearby bench, studying the human with a snort. "I wanted to ask you, since it seems to be an issue now. Tell me, how long?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long have you been in love with your king?"

Jenna's hand slipped across the sword's edge and she yelped, then lifted her now-bleeding thumb to her mouth to suck at the shallow cut. "I...don't know what you're talking about," she said finally, removing her thumb from her mouth and squinting at the cut in the dim light from the forge.

Carona laughed. "Oh, don't give me that. I thought I was mistaken at first, but I know that look."

"What look?"

"That look of love. It's the same look Colossus has been giving me these past few weeks, and if he knows what's good for him he'll continue to look and not touch," Carona said, miming a stabbing motion with an imaginary sword.

Jenna laughed. "You're crazy."

"And so are you, crazy in love with your king that is," the draenei retorted. She leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. "You're a terrible liar, Jenna. How long?"

Sighing heavily, Jenna slid her sword back into its sheath. "You're not going to let up, are you?" The draenei shook her head, and Jenna carefully leaned her sheathed sword against a worktable and then sat on it. "It's not much of a tale...King Wrynn and I are about the same age, you know. I was...in Stormwind, when it was burned by the orcs. I was on the boats that escaped to Southshore."

Carona's eyes widened. "I didn't know that."

Jenna shrugged. "It's not something I enjoy revisiting. I made it on the ships, my parents did not."

A few moments of silence stretched between them, with Carona actually looking faintly uncomfortable. Jenna stared at the floor between her boots, remembering.

"Perhaps it was a foolish girl's fancy, but...I'd lost everything, the same as King Wrynn had. I saw him from time to time on the boat, quiet and in mourning. He was handsome, even as a young boy," Jenna chuckled. "When we reached Southshore and our people were sorted out, Lord Lothar took the king and a small group of knights and rode for Lordaeron. I remained in Southshore, and ended up in the care of a dwarven smith named Brunwar Thunderforge."

"He was a rough man, Thunderforge. Never abusive, but he tolerated little. He was only in Southshore to assist the smithy there, and after a few months I found myself on the road to Lordaeron. My heart soared, for there King Wrynn - only a prince then - still remained."

Jenna crossed her arms, smiling grimly. "Thunderforge worked me hard, but once we were back in his own shop his attitude toward me changed from annoyance to one of tolerance. I don't think the dwarf fully knew how to express fondness in the conventional sense, but he did it in his own way." Jenna dug beneath the neck of her shirt and pulled free a silvery chain from which dangled a charm shaped like two tiny warhammers crossed over a bolt of lightning. "He gave me this when I parted from him, as close to a family crest as he had. Said I could claim his family name as mine, if I wanted to." She tucked it back under her shirt and sighed.

"I spent my childhood as a smith's apprentice, learning both the trade and how to fight. When the prince was crowned king, I returned and lent a hand in the rebuilding of Stormwind, and true to my human surname of Townguard, I enlisted to become one of Stormwind's knights. It...both broke my heart and brought me joy when King Wrynn married Lady Tiffin. I still loved him dearly, but seeing that handsome face smile and knowing that I was a part of his effort to build a better world...that brought me a degree of happiness."

"It wouldn't have me," Carona remarked bluntly. "How could you be happy seeing any man you cared for, king or not, with another woman?"

Jenna shrugged. "I am of common blood and unknown to him. What chance would I have, what reason would _he _have to look upon me favorably?"

"Jenna, you're a lovely human," Carona said dryly. "You are beautiful, and he is male. In my experience men don't need much more than that." The draenei cupped a hand around her elbow and rested the fingers of her empty hand against her chin. "If my memory of human history is correct, I'm surprised you didn't personally stomp off to rescue your king when he went missing."

"I very nearly did," Jenna said, her laughter fading into a chuckle. "I was engaged elsewhere for a great deal of time following the events that led to Lady Tiffin's murder. A personal crusade, if you will. Myself and a few others, including some of the SI:7 members, traveled from Stormwind to root out the head of the Defias gang. I was not part of the raid that finally penetrated van Cleef's stronghold, but I did have a hand in tracking the man down. Because of that, I did not return to Stormwind until King Wrynn had already been declared missing and Lord Fordragon had taken control."

"What kept you from going after him?"

Jenna smiled faintly. "King Wrynn's son."

Carona stared blankly at her, and Jenna shrugged.

"Anduin Wrynn was named king at only ten years of age...and at this time there were whisperings of unrest among the nobles. I had no way of knowing where King Wrynn was, so I did the only thing I felt I could do: help safeguard his son. Van Cleef was taken care of but it was slowly becoming apparent that he was not the head of the problem as we had believed, and so I remained in Stormwind as a guard to protect Anduin...and then, Varian returned."

Carona raised an eyebrow. "...Varian?"

Jenna nodded. "Yes, Varian. _A _Varian returned to Stormwind. A Varian that wasn't...himself." She raised a hand and began to tick off her words on her fingers. "This Varian was...arrogant. Frivolous. Seemingly unconcerned with the fact that a heavy tax upon his subjects had raised ransom that was paid to the Defias remnant for his return, and definitely not at all concerned with the affairs of his people. His own son didn't recognize him, and neither did I."

"I knew King Wrynn, I loved King Wrynn, and this man was not him," Jenna said grimly.

"I did not know this about your king," Carona said quietly. "What was the problem?"

"The problem was he was an imposter king. I knew in my heart that this man was not the King, and it was proven without a doubt through the efforts of Marshal Windsor when he confronted the imposter king and a court noble by the name of Katrana Prestor."

"The black dragon Onyxia," Carona said, nodding in understanding. "I remember that part of your history rather well."

"Then you know how few true guards were in that room that day," the human sighed. "Anduin was taken in the chaos, but once the dragonkin were dead King Wrynn immediately relinquished control of the Alliance back to Lord Fordragon and made arrangements to find the dragon. We discovered that there was, in fact, two Varians, the result of dark magic. He became whole once more when Onyxia was confronted. I was with him then. I was also part of the forces that stormed the Undercity, and later, those men I was with were assigned to Zul'Drak."

"And then you found out about the tournament and knew Stormwind would need champions," Carona finished, crossing her arms as Jenna simply nodded. "So you've loved him all this time...that's quite a tale, for you and him both."

"And yet he doesn't even know my name," Jenna said dryly. She bent and picked up her shield, turning it over in her hands. "It's foolish, I know...a silly little girl's crush. I probably should just forget about it. I'm just a nameless soldier, anyway."

Carona sputtered. "Nameless? Jenna, I thought you were crazy before but now...by the LIGHT, human! Nameless?! Have you forgotten what you did in that arena today?"

At that Jenna burst into laughter. "I guess you're right, but -"

A whoosh of cool air interrupted them, both looking up to see a tall man stepping into the tent. A pair of long ears jutted out from the man's hood, and Jenna felt a distinct sinking feeling in her gut.

"Hello, Randalan."

The night elf pulled his hood off and then tugged off his cloak and gloves. "Jenna," he replied, smiling warmly. His pale blue hair was windswept and hanging free down his shoulders and back, held from his face by a bandage tied around his forehead, and he had a cloth sack hanging from the crook of one arm; he walked forward without bothering to greet or even acknowledge Carona, his mail armor softly clinking as he moved.

"Are you feeling okay? How's the head?" Jenna asked, feigning friendly concern. She didn't know why but Randalan's appearance here made her uneasy...a small part of her worried that he'd been eavesdropping, but she hadn't been talking very loudly, nor was she even near the tent flap. It would have been impossible for the male to overhear them, and yet...

Randalan gently touched fingers to the bandage wrapped around his head. "I am fine. How are you? Are you harmed? I heard of your battle, you must have been magnificent - as you always are, that is."

He came up to her, stopping just short of being uncomfortably close. "Are you hungry, Jenna? I brought stew and mulled wine for you, if you want it."

"Hello Randalan," Carona said flatly.

He barely spared her a glance. "Greetings." The male stepped up and placed his bag on the table Jenna leaned against; Jenna quickly took a few steps away, disguising the movement by acting as though she was placing her shield on a bench.

When she turned around Randalan was staring at her, smiling. "I'm sorry I was not at your side today, Jenna. I should have been...but I was careless. I will not make that mistake again."

"It's okay, Randalan, really," Jenna said, trying to smile. "None of us were supposed to be in any danger. The Black Knight's appearance wasn't planned...poor Arelas, though. His loss was-"

"Better him than you," Randalan interrupted fervently. He took several steps toward her, reaching out a hand. "I can't bear even thinking of losing you, Jenna."

"Randalan, you-"

Without warning the tent was flooded with icy air, and the three of them spun around to see a cluster of people enter, several of them wearing the armor of Stormwind knights, all of them surrounding a single man in the center-

"My king," Jenna breathed, dropping to the ground on one knee. Randalan respectively bowed though he remained on his feet, Carona also following suit.

King Varian Wrynn acknowledged them with a nod, then stepped between his guards and fixed Jenna with his gaze. "Your skill in the arena was highly impressive today. I wish to have a word with you in private," he said, glancing at Randalan and Carona in turn.

Carona nodded, bowed once more, then collected her cloak and began to bundle back up. Randalan, however, stood there looking between the king of Stormwnd and Jenna where she knelt on the floor. Jenna noticed his hesitation and looked up at him, furrowing her brow as she jerked her head toward the still-open tent flap. When he still remained standing where he was, Jenna glared at him.

"Randalan, go. You don't refuse an order from the king."

"He is not my king," the night elf replied softly, standing upright and meeting the man's gaze. "And I heard no order."

Varian's eyes narrowed. "I want everyone but her and myself out of this tent, and that IS an order," he said coldly.

"Just go," Jenna said quietly. "I'll speak with you later."

Randalan finally nodded and retrieved his things, then disappeared through the open tent flap. To Jenna's surprise Varian's escort exited as well, tying the flap shut and leaving her and the king alone; a solid bubble of anxiety formed in her stomach as that realization fully sank in. She was alone with the one man she'd loved nearly all her life, something she had daydreamed about but now that it was reality she realized she was terrified.

"Please, stand up," Varian said, the faintest trace of a smile crossing his lips.

Jenna stood then leaned back against the worktable awkwardly, feeling weak in the knees as Varian looked her up and down silently.

"I was highly impressed by your skill in the arena today," he said after a moment. "Not only did you overcome the Horde's and the Argent Crusade's champions, but an agent of the Lich King as well. I am proud to have you as a champion of Stormwind."

"T-thank you, my king," Jenna replied, feeling her face flush a bright red under the praise.

He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back and beginning to pace slowly. "Yes, I was impressed indeed. Your name is...Thunderforge, yes?"

"Townguard-Thunderforge, my king," she answered.

"Thunderforge is distinctly dwarven," Varian said, looking at her.

"It is, my king. I was...on the boats that escaped Stormwind and made it to Southshore. I was orphaned, and ended up apprenticed to a dwarven smith."

Varian's eyes got a faraway look in them briefly, then he focused back on her. "I see. Well, Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge, today you have made it apparent that your skills are being wasted here in this play-fighting. Tirion has his reasons for this tournament, but a warrior of your prowess would better serve elsewhere." He stopped pacing and turned to face her fully. "Tomorrow I depart for the Argent Vanguard. I wish for you to accompany me as part of my escort."

Jenna, for a moment, felt as though her eyes were bugging out of her head. "My king?"

"I will be traveling in the guise of a common soldier," Varian explained. "I will be leaving my knightly escort behind, here in the tournament grounds, to hopefully avoid alerting the Scourge to my departure. You and a select few others will accompany me in their place."

Nodding, Jenna snapped her hand up and saluted. "I would be honored."

For the first time since entering the tent, Varian smiled fully at her. "Report to the Argent Pavilion tomorrow before dawn's first light. We shall depart then." He returned her salute, nodded to her, and then turned on his heel and left, pushing through the flap and disappearing into the night.

It took many minutes for Jenna's hands to stop shaking, for her legs to cease feeling like they were made of parchment. When she had finally composed herself she retrieved her sword and her cloak, leaving her shield where it lay, then slipped out into the cold night. The wind whistled around her head and tore wisps of hair free from her ponytail, and her boots crunched noisily over the snow as she made her way back to the pavilion that served as their barracks.

Not far from the tent that held the forge she became aware of a second set of footsteps, close behind and following her. She spun around and had to check the reflexive urge to draw her sword in the same motion as her eyes fell upon her follower.

"Randalan!"

"Don't leave Jenna," he said, his voice husky. "Please, do not leave tomorrow."

His eyes shown brightly in the dark, wide and almost panicked. He came up to her and actually grabbing her by the arms; Jenna tried pulling away but his grip was iron and he pulled her close enough that for a moment she feared what he intended. Instead she fond herself pulled into a half-embrace, Randalan gazing intently down at her.

"Please, Jenna. Please don't leave here tomorrow. Don't leave _me."_

"Randalan, you are out of line," she snapped, trying to pull away again without success. "Let go of me!"

He let go and she stumbled back, able to still feel on her arms where he had gripped her. "How dare you eavesdrop on my audience with the king! Whether I depart tomorrow or not is certainly none of your business, and even if it were your words would not sway me from going. Good night, Randalan."

She turned her back on him and walked quickly away but before she had gone far she heard the night elf behind her take two steps.

"You'll regret leaving, Jenna. You will regret it."

She froze, for while the words were innocent enough she couldn't help but sense some sort of threat within them. When she didn't hear him move further, and he remained silent, she began walking away at as quick a pace as she could manage; she didn't look back, she didn't need to to know that Randalan was standing in the snow watching her walk away.

* * *

It was a long, cold ride down to the Argent Vanguard outpost. Jenna was chilled and also tired, her confrontation with Randalan having kept her awake for several hours once she had reached her bed. She and five others - King Varian Wrynn and four humans selected as his guards - touched down at the Vanguard just as the sun was beginning to rise over the mountaintops. An Argent Crusader Jenna didn't recognize directed them to a large bonfire in the middle of the camp, asking them to wait there while he sought the Ebon Watcher.

So they huddled near the warmth of the fire, their backs to the wind. Jenna knelt near Varian, trying to control the nervous flutterings in her stomach as she occasionally stole glances at the man. His hair was gathered loosely at the base of his skull versus high on his head, and he had shed his lion's head armor in favor of plain, unadorned silver plate. He had the hood of his cloak pulled partially up to shield his face from the wind; in all he looked enough like a regular soldier that someone observing from a distance would not likely be able to tell that he was King Varian Wrynn.

After several long minutes the crusader returned. "I'm sorry, but it appears the Ebon Watcher has gone forward toward the breach. He is preparing the troops to push forward and take Crusader's Pinnacle."

"It cannot be helped," Varian said gruffly. "We will go there ourselves."

"Uh, is that wise?" the crusader asked warily.

Varian fixed him with a sour stare. "I am here, and I will speak with him...and you can be assured I will be expecting an explanation of why he requested my presence here yet wasn't here to meet me."

Leaving the crusader standing uncomfortably in their wake, they all moved to mount up on the horses provided to them then rode down the road down the valley that led to a massive wall. There was a small tent and a lean to set up not far from the wall, and in front of the wall itself there was a shored-up breach with a large group of men and women of varied races holding back a steady stream of geists and skeletal warriors that raced through the gap in the wall.

A heavily armored and hooded figure was directing the forces there and Varian stalked up to him, handing the reins of his horse to Jenna as they all dismounted. Jenna stood there only a moment or so before men approached and took their horses off to the side, then she joined the other guards standing just behind King Wrynn as he and the Ebon Watcher talked, coming in right as the Watcher pointed to the wall.

"Aside from the things you see rushing out of the breach, the Scourge have been quiet. I do not like it," the Watcher was saying. "They fought tooth and nail to keep us from breaking through the wall, then they fought to drive us back from the wall. Now that we have held our position...it isn't like them to simply roll over and let us keep what we have taken," he growled bitterly.

"No, it's not," Varian agreed. "What are they doing?"

"I wish we knew," the Watcher said with a heavy sigh. "We have had no indication, no hint of any plans that may be in the works. All we can do is continue forward and pray, if you are so inclined," he added, with a hint of sarcasm.

Varian nodded choppily. "Fine. Now, what was it you wanted me out here for, exactly?"

The Watcher opened his mouth to reply, but fell silent as the faintest of quakes rippled through the ground beneath their feet. "What in the name of-"

Immediately a second rippled followed, accompanied by a shrieking crackle as the ground buckled upward. Jenna threw her arms out and spread her feet, seeking to retain her balance, and then the ground suddenly yawned open before her.

Without thinking she reached out and seized Varian's shoulders, tearing him away from a widening crack that appeared between him and the Ebon Watcher. The Watcher threw himself backwards and snagged a handhold on the nearby lean-to as the crack tore itself wider. Jenna dragged Varian back as the ground began to splinter and fall away, dropping three of the other guards screaming into the chasm. The other remaining guard managed to grasp one of the Watcher's ankles and hang on, but the crack was growing bigger.

Jenna had just pulled Varian onto solid ground that bore no cracks when, without warning, a massive segment of the ice they stood on was thrust upward and then began to tip. Within seconds both Jenna and Varian found themselves sliding helplessly down into the opening.

* * *

For a moment things went dark, but when Jenna came fully back to her senses she found herself half-buried up to the waist in ice and snow. Groaning, feeling battered and bruised, she experimentally ran her hands over her surroundings; she was mostly flat on her back on what remained of the slab of ice she and Varian had been standing on only moments prior. It was dimly lit, the ice reflecting the light of the surface above them, and she could hear but not see ice and snow falling wetly around her. Her sword and her belt pouch and its content dug painfully into her back, and she found herself suddenly wondering if the said contents of her pouch were...well, were going to...

Her hands scrabbled in the ice and snow above her head until she found an edge to wrap her hands around, then she began to slowly heave herself free of the ice. She pulled until she hung over the edge, then kicked herself over and rolled clumsily down until she came to a stop on a solid, icy floor.

As soon as she was on her feet she was ripping at her pouch and dumping it into the snow at her feet. Three spherical objects, gifts from Carona before she had departed this morning, dropped out and Jenna frantically grabbed them and inspected each in turn. The objects, round and about the size of Jenna's closed fist, were actually highly explosive bombs that Carona fondly called "Golden Specials." None of the pins that controlled the timing mechanisms were damaged, and Jenna couldn't hear the telltale ticking noises the devices made, so she carefully packed them back into her pouch and reattached the pouch to her belt.

Now convinced she wasn't about to explode violently, Jenna turned her attention to what she should have been concerned about in the first place.

"My king?" she called, wincing as her voice echoed weirdly around her.

The crack had dropped them into an uneven ice and stone cavern. The opening above her had to be at least twenty five feet up, if not more. She was on one side of a large pile of irregular chunks of ice and slushed snow, and she could see no sign of anyone else, no movement of friend or foe.

"My king?" she called again, quieter.

A pained grunt answered her this time, and she clambered to her feet and staggered around to the far side of the ice pile. Varian was trapped much like she had been partly up the pile, and was currently trying to drag himself free of the encasing ice.

"My king, are you all right?" she asked in a voice just above a whisper. She fell to her knees and began to climb up to him.

"As well as can be expected," he replied through gritted teeth. "We'll see once I'm loose."

Jenna reached him and began to dig around his thighs, heaving ice free and letting it roll down to the floor. After a moment she dared to loop her arms under one of his and with him pushing and she pulling they managed to free his legs; Jenna helped him to his feet then they both nearly toppled down the side of the pile when Varian's left leg gave out from under him and he tipped to one side.

"My leg," he grunted, leaning heavily on Jenna as she carefully helped them both down to the floor.

She carefully leaned him back against the ice and then hesitated, her hands hovering over his left leg. "Shall I...?"

"Yes," he hissed through clenched teeth. "We need to see whether I broke it or not."

He unfastened the thigh plate and then disconnected it from the plate strapped to his shin, setting them aside as Jenna carefully removed his boot and then tugged her gloves off before slipping them under the heavy cloth padding beneath the plate and then beneath his pantsleg. She was thankful it was loose material when not strapped down, as Varian didn't hiss in pain until she'd reached his knee.

She could tell the joint was inflamed, and carefully she examined it with her fingertips.

"I do not believe it's broken, my king, but neither should you walk on it," she said after a moment. She tugged her hands free and helped him get his boot back on before donning her gloves and then sitting uneasily on her knees at his feet, once again looking around. On this side of the pile Jenna could see the faint outlines of what had to be a tunnel leading away from their immediate area, but where it led wasn't apparent.

"The others, that fell in with us, any sign of them?" Varian asked, gingerly bending his leg in toward him.

Jenna shook her head. "No, my king. They fell before we did, and..." she glanced over his head at how high the pile of ice was, remembering how heavy it had been on her when she had been near the top of it all. "...I fear we have no reason to look for them."

Varian's expression went grim. "Unfortunately, you may be right." He tipped his head back, staring up at the sliver of sky high above them. "And it doesn't look like we'll be climbing out, nor do I see any signs of movement up there."

"My king, we should move from here," Jenna interrupted, looking around nervously. Thunderforge hadn't been one for mining his ores himself, but Jenna had once gone with him inside a mine just outside of Kharanos, and had been educated on the basics of mining. One such thing had been determining the stability of cavern walls, and if her guess was correct - and how could it not be? She was at the bottom of what could be called a cave-in in reverse - then the walls here were highly unstable and could further collapse.

"This has to be a Scourge tunnel complex," Varian groaned as he leveled himself to his feet. "This close to the breach..."

"There's no way they could have known you were coming, my king," Jenna said, standing and reaching hands out to steady him. Grudgingly he accepted her help and they began to hobble toward the tunnel. Stepping away from the ice pile meant walking into darker areas, and once they were within the tunnel itself the light dimmed almost to the point where neither human could see at all.

"One moment, my king," Jenna said, slipping from his side where she had allowed him to lean upon her shoulder. She dug for her belt pouch, removing a single Golden Special from it and then drawing her sword. As Varian watched silently she knelt and pulled the leather thong from her hair, letting it fall loosely about her shoulders; she raised her sword and tied the leather around it, down a few inches from the tip, then she carefully hefted the Golden Special in her empty hand.

"What is that?" Varian asked, eying it.

"A source of light," she answered. Carefully, slowly and steadily, she began to dismantle the bomb until she had little more than a spherical container full of a faintly yellow powdery paste. This she shook over the leather thong around the swordtip, giving it a good coating before setting the rest aside. Now, she took what was left of the triggering mechanism and struck a scattering of sparks over it. It immediately caught and flared into a gentle golden radiance.

Jenna looked up to see Varian looking at her, an unreadable look on his face.

"Clever," he said after a moment, making Jenna flush.

"We should continue, my king," Jenna said in a rush. "We need to get away from that room, the walls may collapse and I fear we're not far enough away just yet."

Varian nodded. "We need to find a way back to the surface without running afoul of any blasted Scourge."

Jenna handed her flaming sword to him then ran her hands through her hair until she'd brushed free or torn lose a small handful of strands. She held them out in front of her, letting them dangle loosely from her fingers for a moment before shaking them free and tracking their descent to the floor. They floated, but floated to the right on an unfelt breeze.

"There, my king," she said softly. "Somewhere up ahead this tunnel branches, for the air rushes from behind us to the right."

"And that means a way out?" he asked.

Jenna shrugged. "I do not know, my king. I don't know much about caverns, but the little I do know tells me that air flows from one opening to another, it will not sustain a breeze once cavern pressure has equalized."

Varian nodded, then began to hobble down the tunnel. "Then let us get moving. And, Jenna?"

"Y-yes, my king?"

"Call me by my name for the time being."

The noise that escaped Jenna's mouth sounded vaguely like a strangled rabbit. "I-I cannot, my king! That is highly disrespectful, and, and-"

Varian chuckled, looking at her from over his shoulder. "Consider it an order then, I don't want you stumbling over words if you need to shout a warning."

"Y-yes, V-Varian," Jenna said timidly, feeling awkward as the name left her lips. It wasn't that she was unused to speaking his name - Light knew she'd whispered it enough to herself at night as she grew into womanhood - but it was...beyond strange to find herself in a position where she could say it in his presence.

"Come, we must get back to the surface."

"Yes, Varian," she repeated, following him.

Fifty steps down the tunnel brought them to the branch, and they went down the right-most branch. This tunnel began to slope downward, but the ice was beginning to thin and reveal stone walls. The further they went the more stone was revealed, and finally Jenna stopped and ran her hands down them, beginning to smile as she held their makeshift torch closer.

"What?" Varian asked. He came over and stood just behind her so that when she turned around to speak to him she nearly ran right into him.

"I- uh, it, I mean," she sputtered, sliding down the wall to put space between them. "This is worked stone, meaning this wasn't originally a Scourge tunnel. It looks dwarven-made, actually. See how there's very faint lines here? That's the masonry, too finely fit together to be anything but dwarven."

"How does that help us?" Varian asked, leaning in and running his fingers over the stone.

"It means that there's definitely a way back to the surface, we merely need to find it. It also means this may not be a Scourge tunnel, us falling in here may have been purely coincidence."

"Or, this could be a Scourge tunnel that isn't often used," Varian said, looking over at her. "It may not be well-known, even."

"Then that would be to our advantage, my ki- Varian."

Varian nodded and turned to continue down the tunnel with Jenna close behind.

Every time they came to a new branch in the tunnel, which became less rough and more well-made, they performed Jenna's hair test for the breeze, following whichever way the strands blew. Eventually Jenna's torch sputtered and died, but they'd gone deep enough into the tunnel complex that there was beginning to be a reflected, flickering light much like torchlight. The two of them began to slow their pace considerably, as torchlight meant that there were others about...living or otherwise.

Finally, the unmarked and seamless walls gave way to a wide doorway that they found opened up into a huge room full of forges and furnaces. Countless Scourged beings worked the forges, mindlessly and tirelessly forging weapons from saronite ore that lay piled in great heaps spaced evenly throughout the room. Jenna and Varian stood on a broad walkway that overlooked the great room, both of them keeping to the shadows within the doorway they'd just come through.

"Well, this may be why the Scourge have gone quiet above," Varian said grimly. "They're not giving up the territory we wrenched from their grasp, they're preparing to mount an attack."

"My- er, Varian, look," Jenna said suddenly, pointing across the way.

The walkway they stood on circled the entire room with two staircases that led down to the main floor, but across from them on the far side was a staircase that went _up._

"A way out," Varian said with a grim smile. "And only a room full of Scourge between us and it."

Jenna scanned the room below them; the beings working the forges were mostly skeletons and ghouls, with a rare vrykul among them serving as overseers. There were no others in sight, and Jenna had a gut feeling that this place was considered secret, unknown, and that the Scourge placed here weren't meant for combat. "Do you think that if we keep to the wall's edge on this walkway that we'll go unnoticed?"

Varian thought a moment, his lips tightening to a thin line. "Possibly. Not like we have any choice in the matter though." He gazed back down at the activity below, studying it. "We cannot leave this, though. A stockpile of weapons this large could arm a sizable force, and we can't afford to allow them these resources."

Jenna nodded. "I think I have a solution for that, my kin- damn it," she said, staring at the ceiling as she felt her face darken as Varian let out a chuckle. To hide her embarrassment she reached into her pouch and pulled free one of her remaining Golden Specials, holding it so Varian could see it. He nodded once, then began to quietly hug the wall and begin to walk toward the staircase.

"Can you run, Varian?"

"If I must, then I will," came the answer. "When we are beyond halfway."

"Yes, sir," Jenna replied, hefting the explosive in one hand and her sword in the other.

Somehow they made it nearly to the staircase without being noticed, and when Varian turned to nod at her, Jenna nodded back and then slipped her thumb under the pin that would begin the timing mechanism.

"Go!" Varian shouted, lurching into a half-sprint.

His cry drew the attention of a vrykul overseer, and it shrieked wordlessly as it pointed. All the Scourge around it looked up and then began to race in their direction. Jenna flicked the pin free and heard the familiar clicking of the timer as she hurled the Golden Special down at the attacking Scourge.

Varian had already disappeared up the staircase; Jenna flung herself at the stairs and nearly fell up them in her rush to climb, as the bomb went off behind her and flooded the stairwell with a bright light that left brilliant afterimages in her eyes.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, but they always continued _up _which was, in Jenna's mind, the most important part about them. Up ahead of her she heard a swear, and then a thud and rattling, and Jenna blinked her sight clear to see Varian repeatedly slamming his shoulder into what appeared to be the underside of a cellar door. There were no visible locks but the door obviously was not opening.

"One side, my king!" she shouted, lowering her shoulder as she continued to run at the door at full speed.

Varian looked back and saw her, stepped back and then charged the door in unison with her. With a shattering boom the ice that had formed on the outside of the door and was holding it shut broke apart and the two of them found themselves suddenly outside gasping in the wintery air and landing in a tangle in several inches of snow. Jenna found herself with her head on Varian's chest, and there was a warm little knot between her cheek and the king's chilled armor; she raised her head and saw Thunderforge's charm necklace had worked its way free of her collar and was swinging freely.

Jenna ignored the necklace and immediately rolled off Varian and helped him to his feet, then they both began to tear through the snow as fast as they could run. The snow was nearly knee-deep and it didn't take long for Varian's injured knee to give out on him as they floundered through the drifts. Jenna helped him sling an arm over her shoulders and lifted him then proceeded to plow through the slow to put as much distance between them and the doorway that led down to the hidden Scourge forges.

"Where are we, I wonder?" Jenna panted.

"I don't know- never mind," Varian interrupted himself, dragging them to a halt. "I know where we are."

They were on a bluff, partly up a mountain, and down below them to their right was -  
"Crusader's Pinnacle, and it looks as though the battle began without us," Varian said dryly. "Come on."

The two of them began to scramble down the mountainside, Jenna still supporting most of Varian's weight as they moved, heading toward the battle raging between Scourge and Crusader forces. The Scourge were massed at the base of the hill leading up to the pinnacle and completely ignoring the surrounding area, something Varian and Jenna were both thankful for as they raced for the fighting.

"We'll make it, Light be praised," Varian laughed, panting. "Just a matter of cutting our way up to-"

Without warning there was another ground tremor, but instead of the ground opening up the swallow them there were multiple eruptions of dirt that heralded the appearances of nerubians bursting from hidden tunnels beneath their feet.

"Damn this leg!" Varian swore, looking at where Jenna supported him and then at the sole weapon in his empty hand.

Jenna pulled free from him, steadying the man before drawing her own sword. "Go my king! I will cover your escape!" she shouted, pulling out her final Golden Special and slowing to turn and face the oncoming Scourge forces.

Varian spun, glaring and grabbing at her. "Absolutely not! We didn't come this far only to fail, now you get moving and you'd better _beat me _to the pinnacle or I'll throw you in the Stockades for a year!"

Jenna swallowed hard but nodded and wrapped an arm around him again and then they both began to move as quickly as they could. With the press of the nerubians around them they began to have strands of webbing to deal with as the Scourge began to fling them at them, in front of them, around them, trying to slow their progress.

"Jenna!"

The shout carried across the battlefield and reached Jenna's ears clearly. Varian looked to her, face twisted in confusion, and Jenna glanced over her shoulder in alarm. Varian was right there, it was not him who had called her name...and if not him, then who...?

"Jenna!"

The nerubians were splitting away to either side, and in their midst a tall figure was rapidly approaching, clad in black armor with glowing blue runes emblazoned on shoulders, chest, and helm. Twin pinpoints glowed at them from within the helm even as the figure drew a runeblade and raised it over his head. A death knight, here?!

The death knight gestured, and a roiling cloud of black energy raced toward the two humans; Jenna watched it approach, still staring over her shoulder, and knew without a doubt that while carrying Varian she had no chance of preventing the spell, whatever it was, from striking them both. Right before it reached them Jenna dropped her sword and shoved her king away; as Varian fell, still reaching for her, his fingers managed to grasp the chain of the charm necklace.

Jenna felt the links of the silver chain part as Varian tore the necklace free, and then the death knight's spell struck her fully. Instead of crushing pain or chilling cold, as she had expected, she instead felt an iron grip seize her, then lift her from her feet and drag her back toward the knight. She was weaponless except for the Golden Special she still gripped in one hand, and so once she was nearly upon the death knight she flicked the pin free and let the explosive drop.

It detonated behind her, catching the greater part of the nerubian forces in the explosion. Those caught in the blast's center died instantly, while those on the outskirts caught fire like dry kindling and burned to their deaths, some even catching others aflame in their death throes.

Jenna's feet slammed into the ground as the spell deposited her at the death knight's feet, but she was smiling: the bomb had placed a wide wall of flame between the Scourge and her king. Varian would have the time he needed to escape.

Weaponless and knowing she stared death in the eyes, Jenna let out a guttural shriek and charged the death knight.

* * *

The memories of her final battle were hazy. She remembered charging at the death knight that had torn her from King Wrynn, beating at him with nothing more than her mailed fists. The surviving nerubians had gathered around them and began ensnaring her within their webs. She had punched and kicked and sobbed and torn webbing away as she frantically fought to prolong her life as long as she could, but ultimately she had fallen, crushed by both sheer numbers and by the death knight himself.

She didn't _feel _dead. Her limbs would not obey her orders to move and her head ached, but she still could breathe even though that too hurt...Jenna opened her eyes just barely to utter darkness, aware of how dreadfully cold she was and wondering if this was all that death was after all: endless cold. More chilling than the cold was the thought of...if she were dead, would she rise again as a mindless servant of the Scourge?

She shivered as much from the cold as from the thought. A small warmth blossomed in her breast, though, as Jenna thought back through the battle; she couldn't recall any Scourge making it around the wall of fire she'd placed between them and Varian. She was lost, that much was certain, but it gave her some pleasure to think that she'd saved the life of her love and king, Varian Wrynn.

Without warning there was a sudden light in the darkness. Jenna blinked as her eyes watered; when her vision cleared she realized, with equal parts surprise and terror, that she was in a room and somehow standing upright. Now that she could see Jenna examined herself and found she was wrapped tightly, neck to toes, in webbing and suspended from the ceiling; webbing clung to the walls of the room, but in front of her she could see a low altar-like construction made of stone, a set of black armor with blue runes laid out neatly on it, and in front of the altar she could see the back of a naked man.

The man was a night elf, as she could see the purple hue of his skin and could also see the tips of his long ears. Pale blue hair hung down his back in a single tight braid and he was completely nude, seemingly unaware of the biting cold of the room. He stood rigidly still, but seemed to sense that her attention was on him for he shifted on his feet and sighed heavily.

"I wish you had never left me," the night elf said then, softly.

Jenna gasped despite herself - that voice might have been otherworldly, a voice full of other voices, but she knew it. She knew it well.

Randalan turned to face her, his eyes burning blue as he regarded her.

"Randalan..." she whispered. "What have you done?"

"I told you, you would regret leaving me," he went on as though he hadn't heard her.

He turned his back to her once more and began to methodically clothe himself and don the armor on the altar.

"R-Randalan, what have you done? Where are we?"

"The Lich King is going to win, Jenna. We are fighting a losing battle, only drawing out the inevitable."

Jenna shook her head violently. "No, no! We will prevail! Arthas and his foul Scourge will fall when we march upon his citadel."

Randalan spun around, wearing everything but his helm which he had tucked under one arm. He stepped forward to her then, lifting a hand to stroke a finger down her cheek; Jenna did her best not to shudder at the touch, staring up into his face with terror and disgust.

"The Lich King rewards those who obey him, Jenna. A surrender means no horrific, drawn-out torturous death. Surrendering is so easy, Jenna...it doesn't hurt. It doesn't."

"How could you?" she finally shrieked at him. "How _could you?! _After everything we've fought for! You have sided with death over life?"

Again his finger stroked her face and this time she struggled away from it the best she could, swinging in her webbed cocoon.

"He has promised me my greatest desire," Randalan said softly. "And asks only one task of me..." Now he cupped her chin and tilted her head up. "An eternity with you, Jenna, in return for the head of Varian Wrynn."

"NO!"

He released her and slowly, purposely, placed his horned helm upon his head. Jenna stared at him, mouth working but unable to find the words to voice her horror. Not Varian, not him!

"Randalan, please...please don't kill Varian," she finally spat out, feeling the ice-pricks of tears beginning, feeling as though she would vomit. "Please, Randalan..."

He ignored her and retrieved a runeblade from behind the altar, hefting it before him before turning and striding toward Jenna, then beyond her. She could hear his bootsteps fading away, and with his departure the light source disappeared as well...and she could hear the faintest of skitterings in the dark. For the longest moment all there was was her choking gasps and the skittering, then as she felt something seize her legs and begin to climb up her body.

"Randalan, please don't do this! Please don't kill him, spare him! Don't do this to me! Randalan...Randalan! RANDALAN!"

* * *

Everything was stiff and dead, dead like she was, and like how...

Oh Light, was Varian dead? Let her follow him, he can't leave her behind...

A wordless groan escaped her as she languished in the darkness.

* * *

There were hands on her, touching and prodding. Angrily, frightened, she slapped at them. What was she doing? It didn't matter.

"Jenna..."

A voice from far away. Had the Lich King called to her finally? No, no...leave her alone. She wanted nothing to do with him.

"Jenna..."

"I think..."

"Grab that arm..."

Things were strapping her down and she fought feebly, beginning to sob. Could she run? Where could she run to? She had to get away, had to flee...

Gently the sensations faded away, leaving her alone in the darkness again. It was better than the alternative.

* * *

Water dripped on her forehead from...somewhere. It tickled and itched, could she move from it?

Opening her eyes drew forth an angry hiss as she discovered the world beyond her closed lids was brightly lit...and intensely warm. Uncomfortably so. It was not water, it was her own sweat dripping down her brow and soaking into her hair that lay thickly around her head.

Movement.

Movement to her left.

Snarling she whipped her head that way, only to be reward with incredible nausea and such disorienting waves of it that for a moment it felt as though she floated in a rough sea. Finally her head and her stomach sorted things out, and her logic was beginning to assert itself. The light was...firelight. A torch? A candle? So bright...perhaps a pyre?

"I believe she is coming around."

Fire didn't talk...what was this?

She felt a gentle touch on her face and the image of a blue-eyed man swam before her eyes; panicked she tore her head away from the touch and suffered another terrible onslaught of nausea.

"Coming around, but is she aware?"

Another voice. Were these her masters then?

"We'll find out in a moment, but report to the king anyhow."

King? The Lich King? No...not him...

"Jenna? Can you hear me?"

Her retort, her damnation of the voice and his foul king, was only a wordless mumble, more of a moan than spoken word.

"My name is Eadric, Jenna. Do you remember me?"

Eadric? Had they taken him too? Had the entire tournament been taken?

"We fought in the arena, you and I. I was impressed by your skill, and you broke a few of my ribs when you threw my own hammer back at me. That's the first that's ever happened, I was very surprised."

That was so long ago, a decade, a century, a million years past.

"The compound you and King Wrynn discovered has been emptied and destroyed. It was an old iron dwarf community, by the looks of it and by how hard it was to collapse fully."

Iron dwarves? No, no, it was only Scourge...

"King Wrynn himself carried you from there. I suspect he'd be very disappointed if you expired now."

Varian? Oh, Varian...how she would miss him.

"You are very ill, but we're going to take care of you."

She wasn't ill, she was dying, dead.

"Rest for now. Light be with you."

* * *

It was a rough several days, but Jenna had finally broken free of the feverish nightmare she'd been trapped in; she'd lain in bed in a pavilion emptied of all but Argent forces, hovering somewhere between life and death as her body recovered from exposure and Scourge disease.

The highest ranking members of the Argent Crusade, including Highlord Fordring himself, had taken turns caring for her. When Jenna questioned that - why would they bother with such a low-ranking soldier? - they informed her there were a number of reasons. First, if Jenna succumbed to Scourge plague they wished to be able to quickly free her soul of the taint. She was also a champion of the tournament and the Argent Crusade vowed to look after her as though she were one of their own; they weren't about to let such a skilled warrior fall.

And, more importantly, Varian Wrynn himself had asked them to.

That always twisted Jenna's stomach into knots when she thought about it.

Jenna woke one morning to find a Crusader she did not recognize sitting at her bedside. The smiling woman offered Jenna a steaming bowl of broth then left her to feed herself, disappearing from the pavillion. Jenna was almost done with the bowl when the tent flap opened and a man stepped inside, and then her spoon clattered noisily into the mostly-empty dish as she saw her visitor.

Varian Wrynn strode across the wooden floor, tugging his cloak off with one hand while the other clutched a bulging leather bag. He dropped the cloak to the floor in a heap and then settled onto the stool the Crusader had vacated only minutes before; Jenna tried hard to control her breathing and her expression. Why was Varian Wrynn here?!

"I am relieved to see you alive and recovering," he said after a moment. Jenna stared at him, speechless. Her shock must have finally shown on her face for he snorted in amusement. "Is it so surprising I would come?"

"It is, my king," she finally stammered.

He shifted on the stool. "Fair enough, I suppose. I had to make sure, had to see with my own eyes, that you were recovering. I owe you much, you realize. You saved my life nearly at the cost of your own."

Jenna flushed a deep red and looked away from him. "I could not let you fall, my king."

"I know. I understand the logic behind what you did, but I am ordering you to never make such a foolish decision again. My life is not worth more than anyone else."

"You are the king, Stormwind needs you," Jenna said quietly. "I am just a nameless soldier."

She looked back to him in time to see his eyes narrow.

"Nameless, you say?" He reached to his belt and pulled free a narrow tube, breaking a wax plug off one end and carefully extracting a tightly-rolled sheet of parchment. "You are Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge, daughter of Jeanine and Peter Townguard, formally of old Stormwind, granddaughter of Alexander and Paulina Townguard and Franklin and Esther Morrowsong. You and your parents lived in Stormwind where Peter served as a royal guard-"

"Royal guard?" Jenna interrupted, leaning forward. "My father told us he was a simple sentry, no more than that like his father and grandfather and great grandfather before him."

Varian shook his head. "According to record your father was a royal guard, he protected my own father. He and...he and Jeanine both were slain in the fall of Stormwind, but I guess you would have already known that."

Jenna smiled sadly. "In heart, perhaps, but this is the first I've heard of it being on someone's record. How did they die?"

"Fighting," Varian said simply.

"That sounds like them, yes," she reply softly. He had told her nothing she didn't already know herself, on some level, but hearing it officially still brought a small bit of pain. "I wish I knew why my father never told me he was more than just a regular guard."

"I do not know what reason he would have to hide the truth," Varian responded. "Peter was a royal guard, your mother was a fletcher. Your grandparents Alexander and Paulina were priests and schoolteachers. Franklin and Esther bred horses."

He fell silent, watching her face for any reaction. Jenna had let her gaze drift to where her hands rested atop the blanket in her lap, wrapped around a bowl of broth that had gone cold, but she finally lifted her gaze to his face.

"Why tell me this?"

"To prove to you that you are no longer nameless to me," Varian said brusquely. He let the parchment roll up and then set both it and the tube it had been in on the floor at his feet. "I came here with one very clear purpose in mind."

Jenna swallowed hard, her stomach turning flips. "Yes, my king?"

"As I said before, your skill is being wasted here...but I do not wish to send you to your death on a meaningless battlefield, as Tirion no doubt would have," Varian said sharply. "No, I have a better offer in mind for you...you might even say it runs in your family."

Varian stood. "Rest and recover fully, Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge. As soon as the Crusaders give you leave you are to report to me, and assume the mantle of a royal guard - I do not want to see you until you are back to your normal self again. Rest for as long as it takes, but then report to me."

"A r-royal guard, my king?" she stuttered.

Varian nodded, then stood and retrieved his cloak. "I will take my leave now. Heal."

Jenna mutely nodded, eyes wide as she stared numbly at him, watching as he clasped the cloak around himself. He turned to leave then stopped, one finger held up.

"I nearly forgot. Here," he said, sliding a finger around his neck and pulling free a silver chain. A familiar hammer and lightning charm dangled from it, the chain repaired, but even as he went to drop the necklace into her hands she was folding her hand over his, over the chain.

"No, my king. Keep it, please. A gift," she said in a rush, feeling flustered as her fingers closed over his own.

He paused, then slowly withdrew his hand. "Very well. I, too, have a gift for you." Varian bent and seized the leather bag he had carried in with him, carefully placing it at Jenna's side.

Without another word he left, leaving Jenna alone in the room; after several moments of stunned silence, Jenna clumsily fumbled with the tie on the bag and then carefully tugged it open.

Randalan's sightless gaze stared at her from sunken sockets as the smell of old blood reached her. She studied the severed head for several long moments, memories of the quiet night elf male hunter battling in her mind with the frightening image of Randalan the death knight. He had loved her...a frightening love that turned to obsession and resulted in his death, and very nearly hers as well. She hadn't disliked him, nor particularly liked him much - he was a quiet, strange individual that had always seemed more at home among wild beasts than with other humanoids. For the life of her Jenna couldn't come up with a time when Randalan had first displayed any signs of lust for her, and it made her shudder with unease when she wondered just how long he had been harboring such thoughts.

She tied the bag closed once more and put it on the floor along with her broth bowl, then scooted beneath her blankets once more, suddenly feeling very tired.

* * *

Many days passed before Jenna was back out in the cold. Her armor felt strange to her; she had gone so long wearing it it had felt more of an extension of her skin, of her person. Her capture and illness, and her recovery, had kept her from wearing it for nearly two weeks and in that short amount of time she supposed her body had forgotten what it was like to essentially be encased in a metal shell.

She approached the four men that stood guard outside of the pavillion King Wrynn stayed in when he was on the tournament grounds. It took only a few moments to explain her presence there; one of the guards ducked inside the pavillion, then returned just as quickly and held open the tent flap for her, nodding to indicate she could enter.

Jenna took a deep, steadying breath, then stepped inside.

Varian's tent was warm and well-lit, fully furnished and appointed, a tent worthy of its occupant. The king himself sat at a large table that was strewn with maps and sealed missives, rolls of parchment and writing tools and ink. He was sprawled carelessly in the chair, appearing at ease, his chin resting in the palm of one hand, and Jenna approached and stopped five feet from the table.

His expression was one of genuine surprise as he looked at her, lifting his head from his hand as Jenna stomped her heels together and saluted smartly.

"Reporting as ordered, my king."

Varian stared at her silently a moment, then slowly got to his feet and returned her salute.

"I believe," he said quietly, "that I gave you a specific order regarding my name."

"Reporting as ordered...Varian."


	2. Chapter 2

An annoying itch had formed between her shoulderblades, but she could not reach to scratch at it and ease what, at the moment, felt like the worst bit of suffering she'd ever endured. All Jenna could do was stand straight and still, rigid even, in her place by the wall, her attention riveted upon her king as he received petitioners in his throne room.

She knew from the relative level of light in the room - the light that was natural, and not from torches - that the evening was fast approaching and so her shift as a Royal Guard was nearly halfway over, and that it was nearing mealtime for King Wrynn and his guard. Just thinking about it made her stomach quietly growl, and the noise now seemed to draw her attention even more intently to the itch between her shoulders.

Biting her lower lip, she focused on Varian and stubbornly refused to acknowledge the annoyance. She managed to ignore it and eventually it went away, though she did absently scratch that spot as she sat down to her hurried meal. When Varian did not otherwise have to dine with important persons, he generally allowed the guards to dine with him – they sat at a separate table, in the same room, and ate as quickly as was polite before returning to their posts. Varian had once said he realized the guards often spent twelve hours at a time watching over him, and he would not force them to go that long without food or drink. If he had ever noticed the speed at which they ate, he hadn't mentioned it.

Much later that evening, long after mealtime, as her king prepared to go to his bed, he beckoned to Jenna - and only to her - to follow him inside the bedchamber. Feeling the eyes of her fellow guards boring holes in the back of her head, she obeyed and once within the room Varian shut the door behind her.

"Go home to your rest as soon as you leave this room," he said, striding by her and beginning to loosen his belt and armor straps as he did so. "I want you to report to me immediately tomorrow, I have a task for you."

"Of course, my king," Jenna said into the silence that followed his words.

He looked at her from over a shoulder, tugging his swordbelt free and tossing it onto his bed. "Leave your armor at home, you won't be needing it."

She blinked at him. "Leave my...armor?"

"Yes. We will merely be talking, not fighting. Leave your armor. You will not be performing your duties as a guard tomorrow."

Jenna jammed her heels together and snapped a hand up in a salute. "Very well, my king. With your leave."

"Dismissed," Varian said, his back now to her as he began to undress.

Jenna turned and left, once again feeling the curious gazes of her fellow guards on her. She had not been within the king's bedroom for long and she was still fully clothed, so there was nothing to feed the beast of rumor - and she would pound in the face of anyone who decided to tell falsehoods that would slander the name of her lord. She did make a shrugging motion at one of them, a man she knew only as Kyle and one who regularly sparred with her in their offhours. He nodded curtly - Kyle at least would understand that now was not the time, and he would also likely be the one to hush up any inappropriate whispers. But...there would be questions tomorrow if any of the guards who shared her shift were still awake when she awoke, with Kyle likely making an attempt to stay up purposely to ask them.

Which was fine. Questions were always better than rumors or assumptions.

Jenna had a fair few questions herself, but she continued on and out of Stormwind Keep, allowing her steps to take her to the dwarven district of town; here her name and her connection to Thunderforge had earned her a bed within the home of Orwan Slatefist, an old friend of her adoptive father.

It was a modest home, two-storied, with the entire bottom floor being one big room that served as sitting area, dining area, and kitchen. The second floor above had the only separate rooms, two bedrooms separated by a wash room inbetween; Jenna occupied the smaller bedroom, which had previously been used for storage, and she rarely did anything other than sleep under Slatefist's roof...but it was home, for now, and much friendlier than sleeping in the barracks.

Orwan was short, even for a dwarf, but his hair and beard were still thick and chestnut-colored, without even a hint of gray. He dressed well for a dwarf, white shirts and fine pants, hinting at a wealthy background. Jenna wasn't certain what he did - she believed he was a scholar with ties to the Explorer's League - and had never thought to ask him, but he and his wife were happy to have her around; the childless couple even regarded her as a daughter on occasion, further expanding Jenna's sense of family and oftentimes leading other dwarves she'd never met before to refer to her as both Slatefist's and Thunderforge's 'tall one'.

Orwan was still awake, much to Jenna's surprise, drinking an ale by his fireplace, when she came through the door.

"What'che doin' home at this hour, lass?" he asked, looking up at her in surprise.

Jenna was smiling as she tugged off her helm. "King Wrynn has ordered me home to sleep, so that I can report to him early tomorrow morning."

"Not fired, are ye?"

"Not that I'm aware, no."

"Good, thas' good. Wouldn' be right, ye bein' a champion and all."

She smiled, then jerked her head toward the stairway. "I'm off for bed, good night."

Orwan nodded and turned back to the fire with a lazy wave over his shoulder. "Night, lass."

Because it was so late Jenna took her heavy boots off before heading up the stairs - the stairs were wooden and she sounded like a draft horse if she walked up them with any sort of shoe on - and headed into her little room. As always, her belongings were exactly as she'd left them earlier this afternoon: her bed was still unmade, her chest of clothing closed and latched, spare boots tossed haphazardly under her bed. Aside from the bed and the chest she only had a small bedside table with a candle in a plain pewter holder and a chair; a modest room in a modest house, not something she wouldn't trade for anything.

With her weekly pay from her guard duties and not having to pay rent to live with Orwan, she could easily afford more luxurious items but honestly had never seen the point. She had a few female friends within Stormwind, and had seen their lovely clothing and comfortable goose down beds with their fine blankets and sheets. While the clothing was nice to look at Jenna could never see herself dressing that way, and she had become far too accustomed to sleeping on a regular straw mattress to want to bother with adjusting to a new sleeping arrangement...

And to be perfectly honest, being a soldier had ruined her. She almost preferred sleeping out of doors, with the sky over her and the hard ground beneath her, clad in her armor with only her shield and weapons as a bedmate. It was a dangerous, but simple life - if she needed something she need only visit a quartermaster, and most everything she even owned she could repair with her own two hands. It was an attitude Thunderforge had instilled in her: the greatest satisfaction comes from doing it yourself.

All of this she thought while looking at her simple belongings, and after a moment Jenna had to laugh quietly. Once, Thunderforge had told her she would someday find herself thinking like a dwarf and she hadn't believed him then, but she always found herself thinking on such things when she came home to Slatefist's dwelling and wondered if perhaps Thunderforge had been correct. She'd never know, of course; who in the world would ever know exactly how or what a dwarf thought?

"And if you stand here thinking about it, you'll never get to bed," Jenna said into the silence, grinning and shaking her head.

It took little time to strip off her armor and arrange it neatly on the chair before slipping into a nightgown, and as usual Jenna closed her door and then checked to be certain the door that connected to the wash room was latched from her side. That being done, she retrieved an ivory comb from the bedside table and quickly combed her hair neat and straight...well, as straight as she could coax the hair to be - it'd been twisted into braids under a helmet for the better part of the day, so "straight" was rather relative; all that really mattered was she got the worst of the snarls out before returning the comb to its place on the table and dropping into bed.

There was a beauty in simplicity. Her life and her goals were both simple and routine, and she was fine with that.

The following morning came quickly, and Jenna woke and set about attempting to find matching clothes while she waited for Dera, Orwan's wife, to finish up in the wash room. Jenna mentally made a note to actually fold and organize her clothes when she had a spare moment, looking down in annoyance at the jumble of cloth in her chest.

She finally found a shirt, vest, and pants that all matched and weren't wrinkled, then hurried into the wash room to bathe and dress; for once she took the time to brush out her hair, allowing it to fall unbound down her back where it shone like molten metal. Secretly she always believed her hair was the best part of her looks and she enjoyed letting it down those times where she could, but being as she was normally wearing a helm at any given time of day those times were few and far between.

And, she had to admit, a small part of her hoped her king would take note.

She retrieved her boots from beneath her bed - a pair meant for regular use, not her heavy armored boots for battle - and bounded down the stairs, inhaling deeply as she caught the scent of fresh bacon cooking along with a hint of baked bread.

Dera looked up from the stove and gave her a smile. She was taller than her husband, with dark brown hair she typically wore down her back in a single large braid; she dusted her hands on her apron and then set her fists on her hips.

"Now what's this Orwan be tellin' me? The King wants ta' see ye? Will ye be havin' breakfast before ye go?"

Jenna nodded. "No breakfast, sorry. I'm to report to him now, I'll eat afterwards. Tell Orwan I said good morning."

"Well, be good. And tell 'im yerself, he's right out the door talkin' to that fool Wizzle...Dizzle...Wassitsprocket, whatever that fool gnome calls 'imself these days."

Jenna waved and smiled as Dera went back to her cooking, and Orwan was indeed right outside the door as Jenna nearly knocked him over as she came through it.

"Ach, watch where ye goin' there lass. I'm not nearly drunk enough te warrant bein' on the ground this early."

"Sorry, good morning. And good morning to you, Wizzlesprocket," she added, nodding at the gnome standing there.

Wizzlesprocket was a bizarre little gnome. Brilliant white hair, a big beard artfully curled into little ringlets, eyes hidden behind bug-eyed green goggles...and it was odd to see him not on fire, a regular occurrence with the curious, self-titled Expert Inventor.

The gnome bowed so low his curly beard hid his entire body from view. "Good morning fair Jenna. You are looking lovely this day, the brown of your fine garments truly makes your hair shine like red gold!"

"Here now," Orwan said wryly, "ye be a little too short fer her tastes, I'm thinkin'."

"No disrespect meant, good sir," Wizzlesprocket said with another deep bow. "Every lady should be told the truth of their beauty, and -"

Jenna rolled her eyes and chuckled, moving around Orwan and hurrying away, sensing an impending - but good-natured - argument was about to happen between dwarf and gnome. She could hear them beginning to bicker as she moved away and left the dwarven district, heading at a jog to Stormwind Keep.

The guards lining the hall that led to the throne room all acknowledged her with brief but silent nods - she was one of them, and a champion of Stormwind besides, so they would always greet her in some way.

She returned their nods and hurried on, ducking into a side passageway instead of continuing on into the throne room; this was an area rarely seen by anyone outside of the royal guard and ambassadors to the king, an area meant solely for the comfort of the reigning family. Varian's living quarters, and Anduin's as well, along with a private garden, dining area, and a training ground, were all here hidden within the keep. Jenna had been introduced to these places upon returning from Northrend with Varian in her role as a newly-appointed royal guard, and for a moment she paused within the garden and just looked around, thinking.

Would Varian still be in his room at this hour, or would he be taking breakfast in the dining area? The garden was quiet, even the little fish pond completely still - sometimes a breeze whistled down from where the ceiling opened up to the sky, but the small patches of flowers and the grass were as motionless as she was now. No one was here.

Mentally she berated herself for not thinking about asking about that when Varian had spoken to her last night, but then there was a figure carefully skirting the flowers and walking to her.

Kyle, his face haggard and with dark circles under his eyes, raised a hand in greeting.

"Morning. Why were you called into the king's room last night?" he asked, sounding exhausted.

"He was instructing me on how and when to report to him today. Is your shift just ending?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kyle nodded and covered his mouth with a hand, yawning hugely. "Yeah, we hung around a little later than usual." He eyed her up and down. "You know, I've never seen you out of that armor...you're built rather nicely."

Jenna's face darkened and she frowned. "If that's your idea of a pick up line, it needs some work."

Kyle groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I...no, that's not what I meant. I mean...you're built like a fighter. You're one woman I wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley at night. The armor we all wear makes us all look bulky and stiff, it's strange seeing the muscle under it all. I'm tired and not thinking straight, forgive me." He paused, then chuckled. "Not saying you don't look good, however."

Jenna swallowed, still feeling heat in her face. "That makes two men who have tried their hand at flirting with me today. It's far too early for this horse manure...where is my lord?"

"He was just going to his morning meal. Have a good day, I'm off to sleep myself into a stupor," Kyle said, stifling another yawn before waving to her and continuing on his way.

Jenna waited a moment or two to give her face time to return to its normal color, then she hurried through the garden to the dining hall.

Varian was sitting with Anduin to his left, and by the looks of things the two had literally just sat down. The table had a light breakfast set out on it of mostly breads, juices, and fresh fruit. Jenna approached the table without a sound and stopped at a respectable distance and waited to be recognized.

Varian had noticed her enter the room immediately of course. He nodded to her, then to her great surprise indicated an empty chair at the table.

"Have you eaten? Today is going to be a long day."

"Er, I have not, my lord. Thank you, but I am not hungry yet."

"Then at least sit down," he went on, turning his attention from her to his breakfast. "You are not a guard today, there is no need to stand around and twiddle your thumbs."

Jenna awkwardly perched on the chair he had indicated, and sat silently as the two males ate their quick meal. It was strange to see Varian like this - not in his heavy armor, and not in the role of ruler either. Right now, in this very moment, he was simply a father and Anduin was simply his son; it was a scene that played out every morning at breakfast tables across Azeroth, and Jenna bit her lower lip to prevent a smile from creeping across her features.

In short time they were done and Anduin was hurrying off - most likely to his history lessons, or diplomatic instruction, or something. She'd heard the prince mention such things once or twice, followed by a muttered explanation of how dull he found it, and sometimes Jenna wondered whether those instructing him knew they bored him to tears.

She jumped when Varian clapped a down on the table.

His smile was bemused. "Up. It's going to be a long day."

He was standing and moving and Jenna hurried to follow him, and he led the way into the little private training ground within the keep, then turned to face her.

"I have a few things I need to discuss with you. Let's walk while we talk, I need to dress properly anyhow."

They quickly moved through the halls until Jenna found herself once again outside of Varian's bedroom; the king walked through the door without hesitating, and Jenna hovered awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, unsure if he wanted to come in or wait outside. He paused, turned and raised an eyebrow at her, and she inhaled and held her breath as she stepped through the door and now stood awkwardly just inside it.

She had never actually looked at Varian's room, having been inside just once before - and that one and only time had been just last night, in fact - and Varian allowed no one to be in the room when he was sleeping. It was a large square room, with a carved wooden desk shoved in one corner alongside a wardrobe that was partially open. A large screen, L-shaped with the short section of the L pushed against the wall (forming a sort of pocket) stood near the wardrobe; there were rugs on the floor, and there was a large four-poster bed against the far wall beneath a shuttered window. The bed itself was in the process of being remade by a serving woman, who nearly fell over herself as she quickly curtsyed to Varian as he came into the room.

Varian nodded to the serving woman, and Jenna had to step aside as the woman all but ran from the room; the king continued across the room and disappeared behind the screen and now Jenna could hear the rattle and clank of armor - behind that screen was likely a stand that held his armor, and for several minutes the only noise was that of Varian donning it.

Finally, Varian began to talk.

"I'm removing you from your post of Royal Guard for the time being."

"What? Why?" Jenna sputtered before she could stop herself. "I-I mean, have I done something wrong?"

There was a grunt and a loud click as Varian strapped something on. "No, nothing wrong, I just have two tasks for you. And I will say right now that on one of them you have the option of refusing it."

"I...see, I think. What would you have me do, my lord?"

From behind the screen came a noise that was a cross between a snort and a chuckle. "Before that, answer me this: why do you find it so difficult to call me by my given name?"

"Sir?"

"In Northrend, when we fell into the Runed dwarf compound and managed to escape...you were captured, all because you were determined to save my life at the expense of your own."

Jenna felt her face flush. "Yes, I remember that."

"That brought my attention to you, of course...your loyalty was shown beyond a doubt, and I feel you are trustworthy. You are free to call me Varian - in fact, I would prefer if you did. And you won't."

Jenna felt her face flush further. "I'm sorry, it's just...well. It's awkward. I will work harder at it."

There was another quiet chuckle. "I see." There was a long moment of silence, then Varian stepped around the screen, fully armored but with his hair down and messy around his face and shoulders; Jenna felt her stomach clench at the sight. "And now for business. As I said, I have two tasks for you. First, the task you are not permitted to refuse: I want you to train Anduin in the art of war."

She blinked at him stupidly a moment, the clenching of her stomach at his appearance evaporating. "Excuse me?"

"You are a skilled fighter, a champion of Stormwind. Anduin is old enough now to receive indepth training on how to handle himself with a weapon. Lord Fordragon was..." Varian paused, his expression hardening for a brief instant before it took on a tinge of grief. "Lord Fordragon was previously teaching him, but..."

"I understand, Varian," Jenna said quickly. "I'm honored you think I am worthy of the task."

Varian's grief-tinged expression turned into one of amusement, a wry grin crossing his features. "I've seen you fight, and I've seen you throw, and if Anduin can pick up that skill alone then I believe your time spent with him to be well worth it."

Jenna smiled back at him. "I don't think the prince would be very accepting of tossing bags of coal for hours on end."

"Is that how you learned to throw?" Varian asked with a laugh.

"More or less, yes," Jenna answered, ducking her head and chuckling sheepishly. "Thunderforge... He ah, he was very particular about the heat of his forges, and if I wasn't moving fast enough for his liking he took steps to quicken the process. I learned to catch things without thinking too much about it, as well as throw without much time to gauge distance or even aim. You just...fall into a rhythm I suppose. It's second nature to me now."

"Well, I believe Anduin will be in good hands under your instruction. You will teach him, and by what I've seen you may have a few things to teach me as well," he added, again raising an eyebrow at her.

She cleared her throat and stared down at her boats, smiling to herself. "I very much doubt that, Varian."

"We'll see," he replied, turning his back to her as he pulled his hair up into his usual ponytail set high upon his head. "Come, you're my first 'petitioner' of the day."

She stepped aside and let him pass, then followed him back through the halls until they reached the throne room; before they entered the throne room however, Varian held her back and stepped closer, leaning down some and lowering his voice.

"This is an odd request I have for you Jenna," he began, looking up as his Royal Guards took up positions around them both. "You are welcome to refuse it, but I want you to listen first."

"Have you ever heard of the Sullivan family?"

She thought a moment, then shook her head. "Heard of them yes, but I couldn't pick them out in a crowd if my life depended on it, and I don't know much...only that the wife was killed, and a son ran away or was kidnapped, or something."

Varian nodded. "That's what most know of them, and they...they're wrong, essentially. Their story is a confusing one, one that I'm not certain I believe nor certain that I even know fully, but the son that was kidnapped has returned recently." Varian paused, inhaled deeply, then blew out a frustrated sigh. "The circumstances involving his return are suspect, but both his brother and his father have pleaded for mercy for him."

"Mercy?" Jenna repeated, "why?"

"The son that was 'kidnapped' was not kidnapped. He supposedly, under the control of a - a demon, or some such creature, murdered his own mother and attempted to capture his younger brother. After the failed capture, he disappeared for several years...during the time that he was missing, he was apparently under the control of someone else, and was forced to do the bidding of his controller - or so I am told. The only person who explained this to me was the younger brother, Mikael Sullivan. The elder brother, the one who was enslaved, refuses to speak of it, completely."

Jenna waited until he was silent for several breaths, then shifted where she stood at his side. "That's...terrible. That's a terrible story, to be enslaved most of your life."

"Terrible, yes, but we have no way of knowing if it's even true," Varian grunted. "The eldest son is named Datavian. I will not go into the tale behind how he returned to his family, as it is long and quite possibly more confusing than anything I've ever heard in my life, but he is back with his family and I have him serving a sort of punishment for the death of Koulson Sullivan, his mother."

"A punishment? I thought you said he was forced to kill her?"

Varian grimaced. "The only thing Datavian himself will speak of was how he is guilty of his mother's murder. His brother says otherwise."

"What makes his brother so certain?"

"He spoke of a spell that connected their minds, and that he saw the truth in Datavian's memories," Varian said bluntly. "I'm not certain if I can trust such a claim."

Jenna clasped her hands in front of her, tapping her thumbs together. "I see where your discomfort comes from, my - Varian," she quickly corrected herself. "It does sound like a big mess of a story...but why are you telling me this? What task do you have for me?"

Varian grinned down at her grimly. "You know of Malygos, yes?"

"The Aspect of magic? Yes, I do. He and his flight are wrecking havoc in Northrend."

"Were," Varian said, "were wrecking havoc. Malygos has been killed."

Jenna's eyes went wide. "Truly?"

He nodded at her. "Malygos is dead, and his flight is currently under control of one called Kalecgos. This Kalecgos is attempting to reverse the damage done by Malygos, and bring the blue dragonflight under his control."

Jenna nodded, but inwardly her mind was reeling. First a story of a family's misfortune, and now talk of the blue dragonflight? What in the world did Varian want from her?

"Mages are still disappearing, still being attacked, despite Kalecgos ordering the flight to leave mortals alone." Varian paused, then snorted and once again smiled grimly. "This Datavian claims something is stalking him, hunting him, and he's not the only mage who has noticed something amiss...but he was the first one to make such a claim."

He straightened and strode across to his throne, settling into it while still looking at her. "I'm wary of his claim. With his background, with his...history, this may be his doing."

Jenna slowly walked across the floor until she stood in front of the throne, then she began to pace. "...if it was his doing, attacking himself to throw off suspicion would be to his advantage...but you said he was enslaved by some sort of demon? The blue dragonflight does not like demons and would likely not follow the orders of one who has closely associated with one."

"That is what I believed too, at first," Varian replied. "This Mikael Sullivan, the younger brother, is a warlock, and he's managed to befriend - or at least earn the respect of - a fully grown adult drake, so the blues must not be as against demons as we may think."

"Hmm. I still cannot see blue dragons taking orders from a mortal."

Varian nodded. "Now that, I can agree with. It's strange, to be sure, but my suspicions are still there."

Jenna stopped pacing and turned to face him. "If it's not too forward of me, may I ask what it is exactly you're wanting me to do? "

Varian rested his chin in the palm of a hand, his elbow propped up on the arm of his throne. "I want you to go to this Datavian, and guard him. Guard him as you would me, care for him - he is rather ill, as he is recovering from years of abuse at the hands of his enslaver. You will be posing as his nursemaid, of sorts, but in reality you will be protecting him and seeing if his claims of being hunted are true. If they are, then he is innocent of wrong doing and I was wrong to suspect him...but if he isn't, you are to arrest him."

"I see...uh, Varian?" she said slowly. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she cleared her throat. "When you say 'nursemaid'..."

"He is sickly. I'm told he coughs, and suffers from bouts of weakness," Varian said into the silence. "You'll be doing no more than making sure he doesn't suffocate from his coughing and preparing his meals."

Jenna looked at the floor between her feet, thinking. If all she was doing was keeping an eye on this man, it would be a simple enough task...but if there were actually blue dragons - or anything else for that matter - hunting mages, the danger would be considerable. Could she handle a dragon? She knew she could handle Scourge, but Scourge was easy; you just kept chopping and hammering and slicing until it quit moving. She really doubted the same logic would apply to a fully grown dragon.

And what if this Datavian truly was the reason mages were being attacked? She assumed Varian would like her to somehow find out why, but she had no real idea how to go about that...Jenna liked to think she was an intelligent woman, but undercover, covert, secret operations weren't anything she'd ever dealt with.

It was by far the strangest thing she'd ever been asked to do.

And yet...

"I'll do it," she said finally. "Seems simple enough."

Varian looked at her, studying her for several moments. "You know you may refuse? You do not have to do this simply because I am asking you to."

"I know, Varian. But I feel I can do this...though I am curious as to why you believed I would be the best choice for such a task?"

"You are...easy to talk to, Jenna," Varian said quietly. "I have spoken to people who have worked with you, and they all say as much. You are friendly, unassuming, loyal to a fault in some cases...exactly the sort of personality I think this Datavian may come to trust. Perhaps you can persuade him to speak of his past some, and confirm or disprove the tale his brother has told me."

Jenna felt her face go red once again. "Well, I don't know about that Varian...I'm no nicer than anyone else - who in the bloody hell told you all that?" she sputtered.

He chuckled. "Your fellow guards, and that mouthy draenei companion of yours...Karina?"

"Carona," Jenna corrected, feeling lightheaded. "And which guards? I have half a mind to go beat their heads together..."

Varian laughed again. "I disapprove of fighting amongst my guards, Jenna. But they're of the opinion that no one on Azeroth wouldn't want to talk to you."

"Great..." Jenna groaned quietly. "I...I'm not certain how to respond to that."

"Consider it a talent," Varian said, shifting upon the throne. "Get this Datavian talking to you, and make sure he stays alive - if he's truly behind the attacks on Stormwind's mages, I want him to pay for it."

"Yes sir," Jenna said, then grimaced and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, Varian. Where is he?"

"You'll find him in the library. He has been tasked with repairing, indexing, and arranging the books."

"His punishment?"

Varian simply nodded.

Jenna bowed, then saluted, and quickly hurried from the throne room; she didn't have far to travel, as the hall that led to Stormwind's library was not far from the throne room. She ended up taking the first passage on her right which dumped her into an open court yard similar to the private garden deeper within the keep; a few children looked up at her in surprise, but she just gave them a brief smile and hurried to the library door, pausing in the doorway when she heard a lung-rattling cough from within.

Jenna quietly edged into the room, the smell of old parchment wrinkling her nose, and another terrible cough issued from somewhere behind the bookshelves in front of her. She stepped inside and quietly made her way around the first book shelf, and came nearly face to face with another person.

It was a man, his face thin to the point of being almost cadaver-like, and pale so that his neatly-trimmed beard and sideburns stood out in stark contrast against his skin. He was clad in simple white linen robes and brown leather boots, but even through the cloth Jenna could see he was incredibly thin. The man breathed shallowly, and when Jenna raised her gaze to fully take in his face she had to swallow to keep from gasping; his eyes were dark, sunken in to his skull, and bore the most haunted look she'd ever seen on a human being.

He clutched several heavy tomes to his chest, covered his mouth with his free hand as he coughed again, then bowed slightly to her.

"Good day to you. What do you seek?"

Jenna quickly tried to recover from the surprise of seeing such a sickly man. "Oh, I, uh. You're Datavian Sullivan, yes?"

"That is I."

She bowed to him, then smiled warmly. "My name is Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge, I'm your new...well, caretaker, I suppose."

"I see," he said quietly. He turned from her and peered at the titles of the books nearest them, then carefully made room on the shelf and shoved in one of the books he held. "I'm sorry for you, then."

"Why's that?"

He stifled a cough and inhaled deeply, letting the air out slowly. "I'm a waste of your time, I'm afraid."

"What makes you say that?" Jenna asked.

"I'm not someone anyone should be concerned about," he said, checking the titles on the remaining two tomes he held. "I'm not in the best of health by any stretch of the imagination, and nothing anyone has done has helped. It would be better to just leave me to my misery."

Jenna backed up as he walked toward her in slow, deliberate steps, then stepped completely out of his way. The man made his way carefully over to where a table and chair was shoved against the wall between two bookshelves, the table covered in all manner of items: small blades meant for scraping parchment, ink pots, quills of varying sizes, heavy needles and thick thread, a leaden container of hot melted wax sitting upon a small brazier.

Datavian carefully set the books he held down, then clutched at the back of the chair as he coughed again so violently his entire body shook.

Without realizing she'd moved, Jenna found herself suddenly at his elbow, reaching out to do...something. Steady him, or catch him if he fell, or...well, something. "Here, sit a moment. Is this cough normal for you?"

She helped him pull the chair from under the table and he dropped into it, breathing heavily, his face red from coughing. "N-no. It is not normally this bad...I have my good days, and my better days, and then there are days where I can barely breathe at all." He leaned back in the chair and seemed to focus simply on breathing, his eyes closed.

"Do you take any sort of tonics for it?"

He nodded, and swallowed hard. "I do. They do not work however."

Jenna nodded, then carefully perched on the edge of the table. "Seems I'll have my work cut out for me," she said gently, smiling. She stuck out her hand to him. "I'll try this again: I'm Jenna Townguard-Thunderforge."

He opened his eyes after a moment and looked at her, then folded one of his bony, papery-dry hands into her own. "Datavian Sullivan."

"Well, Datavian Sullivan, I guess we're stuck with one another for the time being," Jenna went on, crossing her arms across her chest once he'd released her hand. "Why don't you explain to me your sickness, so I know what to expect?"

"I cannot convince you to give up on me now?" he asked weakly. "There's really little you can do...little anyone can hope to do."

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. You'll find I'm rather stubborn when I'm told I'm destined to fail," she added, chuckling. 'And,' she thought to herself, 'you'd have to be a Titan or worse to convince me to ignore an order from my king.'

Datavian began to cough again, then he leaned back against the chair again and closed his eyes. "Well..."


	3. Chapter 3

The first day was by far the most awkward day Jenna could ever remember living through.

Inwardly she was wondering what in the world she'd been thinking when she'd agreed to this...Varian had, after all, told her she was free to refuse, but she hadn't, and now she was supposed to be both caretaker and guardian to this sickly man that she really had no idea what to do with.

He had explained to her more fully what was wrong with him: he was seemingly in a perpetual state of being caught somewhere between a fever and a cold. His cough was terrible, he did sometimes suffer from weakness and got lightheaded at times, and he had very little appetite for the most part and rich foods tended to not sit well with him. He also slept little certain nights when his cough was especially bad.

When asked about any tonics or medicines he was taking, he'd merely snorted at her and turned his attention back to the book he was repairing, refusing to even acknowledge her existence for quite a bit, until finally he told her of some 'herbal remedies' he was told to take on a daily basis.

"I sometimes forget to take them, and I never notice a difference if I do or don't," he'd added quietly.

All in all, it did sound like a miserable way to go about living; every time he coughed she felt a little sorry for him. He did explain a little about how his previous attendant had tended to him: spent the day with him, saw him off to bed, then returned the next morning, never staying during the night unless Datavian was having a particularly bad time with his coughing. He offered her the place where that caretaker had slept, but had then muttered something about a further waste of time and then fell silent once more as he went about his duties.

After that, Datavian spoke very little - even when she tried engaging him in conversation - and Jenna found she had a lot of time on her hands to think.

First, she was debating how she would handle evenings. A little bit of verbal prodding had finally gotten Datavian to reveal that he lived in a tiny apartment-like dwelling within the Mage quarter of Stormwind, which meant Jenna lived clear across town from him and so her current living arrangements wouldn't be all that convenient.

Datavian's previous caretaker had stayed with him sometimes he'd said, and when she tried asking further he'd merely given her a pained look but then said it was her choice as to whether she wanted to stay there or just return to her own home at night.

It didn't take her too long to discover that when it came to his own comforts or even his own continued existence, he was very apathetic.

Thankfully during that first day, as she was beginning to grow hungry - Datavian had quietly informed her that he didn't eat other than early morning and early evening, meaning Jenna (who hadn't eaten breakfast) wouldn't be eating until that night unless she left his company to do so - a man had appeared in the library doorway.

The man had ignored Datavian and instead had done everything he could to catch Jenna's eye, until finally she relented and left where she'd been seated on the back of a chair and went over to him.

"Hello, do you need something?" she'd asked.

The man was tall, lean and full of hard skinny muscle, and was clad in dirty brown leather armor with a crumpled black cloth hood tied around his neck that let his greasy blonde hair fall free over his shoulders. "Townguard, right? Name's Eliot, I'm from SI:7. I've been sent to help you on your 'mission,'" he grunted, throwing a condescending look at where Datavian had just disappeared among the bookshelves.

"My name is Townguard-Thunderforge, and King Wrynn did not mention that I would be having help," Jenna said dryly. She was doing her best to keep her face neutral but it was difficult; this man stank of old sweat and his breath was strong enough to knock a horse over, and though she had no true idea why she did, Jenna just felt that she disliked this Eliot, strongly.

"He rethought a few things," Eliot snorted. "Listen woman, 'cause this is how this is going to work. I don't want anything to do with that sickly little bastard, so I'll keep an eye on him at night while you're getting your beauty sleep, got it?"

Jenna bristled. "Excuse me, but if you're here to help then I don't believe you get to dictate who does what."

Eliot laughed and scratched his scalp with such force Jenna could hear his nails rasping over his skin. "Look, just telling you what sort of help to expect, take it or leave it. I don't want to have to deal with babying some fool. You just make sure he behaves himself during the day, I'll make sure he doesn't run away at night..." He leaned closer then, and Jenna held her breath against the assault of many soured smells. "And I'll also be watching to make sure nothing pokes around, right? Right. You can't do that if you need to sleep."

"Fine," she snapped, giving him a shove and inhaling fresher air. "You keep watch at night. Your smell is enough to keep anything away I'd wager."

He laughed at her and turned away, striding off and leaving her to stand and fume. "Don't expect to ever see me 'less I got something to say. If I'm lucky, I won't."

She really, really did not like this man.

But despite her dislike, he did present a solution to a problem she'd been thinking of only moments before. She at least knew that now she would be free to sleep or leave Datavian's company briefly, at least in the evenings.

That night Jenna walked with Datavian across Stormwind to his home, and she ate a cold meal of soft cheese, bread, and sliced salt ham with him before he excused himself and went into his bedroom for the night, leaving her alone to examine his dwelling and...well, stay the night if she chose, she guessed.

His home was very tiny, but meticulously clean to the point it looked as though no one lived here at all. It had a very empty feeling to it; there was a low, backless couch under the window by the door, the table they had sat at to eat with its four plain wooden chairs. A bookshelf full of books stretched from floor to ceiling, and was easily the largest piece of furniture in the room, and the only other thing there was a cabinet that held what looked like a few scattered spell books and spell components along with the few dishes and cooking utensils he owned and a small charcoal brazier.

Jenna imagined the previous caretaker had likely slept on the low couch, and when she sat on the couch her suspicions were confirmed as she sank into a body-sized hallow worn into the cushions. Bouncing on it experimentally made it seem like it wouldn't be so uncomfortable to sleep on, and so she made up her mind to just sleep here this night and every night, for as long as it took to determine whether Datavian was guilty of attacking other mages.

That settled, she stepped outside and, when the shingles on the roof above her scraped, looked up to see - without much pleasure - Eliot laying on his back on the roof. He waved jauntily at her, but she just rolled her eyes and hurried to get across town to gather some things so she would be able to just live with Datavian temporarily.

That first, awkward day, ended with her bedding down on the couch under blankets taken from her own bed, with spare sets of her clothing folded neatly and stored beneath it along with her maces, sword, and shield - arranged of course so they'd be easy to retrieve each morning.

As she began to drift off to sleep, she thought of Eliot on the roof. It was not a pleasant thought.

* * *

The mornings were beginning to fall into a routine.

Jenna would wake before the sun rose - being a soldier had its drawbacks, she supposed - and begin heating water and fixing a quick breakfast. By the time Datavian had awakened she had a cup of tea waiting on him along with porridge for the two of them; at first he'd been surprised she'd bothered, but now that a little over a week had passed he had come to accept the fact that nothing he said was going to deter her from her 'caretaker' role.

Which was something that surprised even her; Jenna was a soldier. Every bone in her body seemed meant to be a soldier - fighting was in her blood, her weapons were an extension of her body and will...and yet, she'd found she'd slipped right into the role of caring for her ill charge. Her only experience nursing anyone had been during her time in the Howling Fjord, during her brief stay in Valgarde. The medics there had been overwhelmed by the recent vrykul attacks and Jenna had been pushed into helping care for the injured men and women there; Datavian wasn't bleeding or missing limbs, but she found she was in the same mindset now as she had been for those in Valgarde, one of careful but respectful regard to their wellbeing, and being as he was capable of doing a great deal on his own there wasn't much Jenna really needed to do for him.

Today, as usual, they were in the library; Jenna was seated in an empty chair, watching as Datavian carefully sewed a loose cover back into place. His cough wasn't so bad today, and for that she was thankful because he'd finally begun talking to her some.

He wasn't talking now, granted, as he was concentrating on what he was doing, but he had been talking earlier, mostly about the books he was organizing. She'd learned he was very interested in history, and the first conversation she'd coaxed him into had been on the troll wars. Right now he was repairing one that detailed the First War, and she imagined that once he was done he would comment on it, and she'd have another chance to get him talking.

After some time Datavian carefully closed the book and then hefted it. "There. Now the next heavy-handed lout who walks in here won't tear the cover off."

Jenna chuckled and shifted her legs out of his way as he went to place the book back on a shelf. "The way you talk you make it sound like a barbarian plans on coming through here."

He smiled faintly at her from over his shoulder. "The condition some of these books had been in makes me think that's not too far off from what may have happened." He settled it in place and carefully pushed it in level with the books on either side. "What will be the true challenge is trying to figure out where the missing books are."

"How do you know which are missing?" she asked as he came back to sit down in one of the remaining empty chairs.

He put his face in his hands and coughed quietly, one quick little "keff" noise, then rested his chin in a palm. "I can't, not really, unless there are volumes gone. I have found several sets of books that are missing volumes from the middle - like, say we have volumes one, three, and four. Two is obviously missing. Does a scholar have it? Was it taken recently? Where could it possibly be now, if not within Stormwind's walls?"

Jenna grimaced. "It would seem you've been given an impossible task, in some respects."

He nodded, suddenly looking very tired. "Indeed."

She leaned forward and looked at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said quietly. "Just the same as ever."

Jenna shoved herself to her feet, looking around. "Where were you last? I'll go get the books and bring them to you, you stay there and rest some."

He looked up at her, surprised, but began to stand. "No, no. I'm fine, I tell you-"

She put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him back down into the chair. "You look like death warmed over. If I knew I could keep you there, I'd confine you to your bed until you regained some semblance of health back," she said dryly. "I mean, if it's your intent that I have to carry you back to your bed this evening, by all means exhaust yourself - I've probably carried things three times your weight anyhow, it won't bother me a bit."

His cheeks colored slightly, and he cleared his throat. "I won't be that tired, I assure you..."

"So you say," she said with a grin. "Just sit. I'm supposed to be keeping you alive and well, quit making my job harder by attempting to work yourself to death."

He simply stared at her in silence, then cleared his throat and looked down to where his hands were now clasped together and resting on the table. "Two...two shelves back, second from the top, are three books laying on their sides. I meant to examine those next," he said quietly.

She went and easily found the books he'd described and brought them back, putting them on the table near him; for several moments he sat and continued to stare at his hands, not moving, then finally he turned to look at her.

"Aren't you bored?"

Jenna flopped back into her chair and shrugged. "Not really. I've held...I've been employed where a great deal of what I did was stand around silently, staring at the opposite wall, or at a person, for hours on end. You do sometimes speak to me so that breaks the monotony, but no, I'm not bored. I've learned how to deal with bored."

"A guard, then." When she nodded at him, he turned back to the books and slowly tugged them toward him. "...so no mere caretaker," he added finally, giving her an odd look.

She cleared her throat. "Er, no. I'm young, but I've done a lot of different things already in my life."

"I see."

After that he was silent for the rest of the afternoon, leaving Jenna to wonder what, exactly, she'd done to...anger him? Offend him? It was hard to tell, as he wouldn't even look her direction nor respond to any attempts of hers to get him talking.

The day passed and finally they were on their way back to Datavian's home when Jenna grabbed his arm and began to gently guide him toward the Trade District.

He finally broke his silence and tugged them both to a stop as they were crossing a bridge over the canals, pulling his arm free of her grasp as he did so. "Why are we going this way? I prefer to avoid crowds."

"I want to buy a few things for dinner," she replied. "Fresh vegetables, mainly."

He glowered, but continued to walk beside her as she nudged him into motion again; she glanced over at him from time to time, biting her lower lip as she took in the look on his face: it almost seemed like he wanted to be away from her as quickly as possible. What HAD she said that'd made him so...whatever he was right now? She mentally went back over everything she could recall saying today, and couldn't see anything wrong with having mentioned that she was once a guard - and that was technically true, she had been a guard, but now that she was protecting him (and watching him) she really had no idea what she was anymore. She guessed she could still consider herself a guard, of sorts...

'Maybe he just doesn't like guards,' she thought to herself with a sigh.

Since he had specifically said he didn't like crowds she quickly found what she'd wanted and got them out of the Trade District as quickly as possible; she'd located an armful of fresh vegetables - fresh carrot and potato, some snap peas, and even a small head of cabbage. Datavian had refused to respond when she'd asked him if he liked the things she'd bought, and while it was annoying she recognized she couldn't force him to speak if he didn't want to...and, she reasoned, if he hadn't liked anything he would have been a fool to not speak up, after all.

Their dinner that night was a stew, and Datavian ate it without complaint then, as usual, went to excuse himself for the night early. Jenna partially rose out of her chair, stretching a hand out to him as he was standing. "Er, Datavian, wait," she said. He stopped and looked at her with a deadpan expression on his face; she swallowed. "I...well, it's obvious I've said something to upset you, and I don't know what I did. I'd like to not do it again...could you please tell me what I said that's put you into this mood?"

He grimaced briefly, then closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I...do not care for liars."

She blinked at him, mouth hanging open. Liars? He was calling her a liar? Why? "What? You're calling me a...when did I lie to you?"

"Omitting information is the same as lying, to me."

"What in the world did I 'omit' then?"

He opened his eyes and met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. "You came to me pretending to be a simple caretaker, a nursemaid even. You're not. You're a guard. Did you think I would not notice the weapons you carry on your person? What reason would a guard have to protect me? I value honesty more than you could ever imagine, and you're not being honest with me."

Jenna sputtered a moment, then stood up and faced him squarely. "Are you or are you not the same Datavian who reported that something was stalking you? Is it really so hard to believe that I'm here for that?"

"Yes," he replied bluntly. "It IS hard to believe, for I first reported something stalking me nearly two months ago. Why now? Why not then? You are here for some other reason. What is it, then? Are others being stalked as well? Am I suspect?" he added bitterly, letting out a chuckle that turned into a racking cough that sent him bending over to lean against the table, wheezing. When she reached out to touch him he sent her a glare that made her pause. "You are not telling me something, and not telling is the same as lying. Who are you and what do you want with me? Can you not just leave me in peace?" he snarled, shoving himself up from the table and staggering, coughing, toward his bedroom.

Before he reached the door, however, Jenna was up and moving toward him. "You know, I know very little about you as well. If your logic can be unfairly applied to me then it can just as easily apply to you, so pardon me for not telling you my life's story."

He paused in the doorway, glared at her, then disappeared inside and shut the door behind him, leaving Jenna grinding her teeth and staring at the blank door.

She cleaned away their dinner and then readied herself for bed, and for several hours could only sit on the couch wrapped in her blankets, thinking.

She was angry at herself for having nearly lost her temper at him, but she was also angry at him though she could see why he would think of her as he did. As little as she knew about him, she didn't find it hard to believe that he would find it difficult to trust in others - someone who had been a slave wouldn't have much reason to trust anyone else. Jenna could see his reasoning...and thinking about it, she realized she hadn't specifically been told that he couldn't be informed as to why she was there. In her outburst there she'd told him half of the truth, yes...but maybe it would be better if...

"Honesty, huh," she whispered, shifting so she could tuck her knees under her chin.

Thunderforge hadn't been a father to her. He'd given her a place to sleep, a trade she could eventually work in - if she ever stopped being a soldier, that is - and a name so she'd have someone to turn to if she ever needed help...but the one thing he'd always been good for was giving sound advice. One such thing she remembered hearing him once saying was trust had to be earned - you couldn't get it unless you gave it.

Truthfully, she felt she trusted Datavian. He'd given her no reason not to, despite what she'd been told by Varian, and while he wasn't the most talkative person ever she didn't get the feeling that he was anything other than what he appeared to be.

Well, what harm would come if she told him why she was really here? After all, she really WAS here to protect him, and if he already suspected that she was here because someone thought he was behind the stalkings well...it wouldn't be telling if he already suspected it anyway, it'd just be confirming what he already knew.

She laid back on her couch and settled into the worn-in groove in its center. Again she wondered why she thought she'd be up for this...if Varian had wanted indepth information on this Datavian, he would have been better off selecting someone who had dedicated their life to persuading information out of others.

'Just because I'm 'easy to talk to' he thinks I'll just...I don't know, waltz in here and learn everything there is to know about this man,' she thought, then laughed to herself and rolled over to find a more comfortable position.

Tomorrow she needed a new strategy, one that first convinced Datavian that she meant him no harm and would then allow her to maybe get to know him a little bit better. How she would do that was a mystery though...but, as she fell asleep, she at least counted herself AND Datavian lucky that Varian had sent her and not that piggish Eliot. She hadn't seen the man, but then he'd told her she wouldn't unless he 'had something to say.' She really hoped he never had anything to say.

* * *

Datavian lay in the darkness in his bed, hating himself and unable to fall asleep.

His throat was raw from the coughing his diatribe had brought on, and each time he swallowed he was again made aware of the sandpapery feeling in his mouth.

He was thinking on what Jenna had thrown at him before he'd escaped into his room; he felt like an idiot now, because she was right. She knew just as much about him as he did her...and yet he'd gotten so angry at her for that same reason, and she didn't - she hadn't - deserved that.

He held up a hand that was still shaking, then clenched it into a fist. No, she hadn't deserved that at all...he would have to...he would have to appologize. In fact, he wanted to appologize right then and there, but she'd probably be asleep by now.

Groaning, he rubbed his hands over his face and coughed weakly. If she didn't hate him come morning it would be a miracle, but what could he do? He could appologize, but then he'd still be mired in his hypocrisy and he knew the only way to escape from that would be to-

No. No. He was not revisiting those memories. The only reason he slept as well as he did - which wasn't well at all - was because he refused to acknowledge everything that had -

No. For several minutes he lay there and told himself no over and over, as the memories threatened to come back. He'd only gotten along this well because he pretended those memories didn't exist. The guilt and the pain could be held at bay if he willed it away and did not dwell on it, but even the tiniest crack in his selfcontrol would be enough to let them come flooding back...he did not think his sanity could survive being drowned in such a way.

So then...what could he do? What could he say? He rolled onto his side and curled into a ball, coughed a few times, and hated himself.

* * *

The next morning Jenna was sitting their bowls of porridge on the table when Datavian came out of his room; she smiled at him when he gave her an uneasy look, then dropped into a chair and waited for him to sit.

He settled into his chair, slowly, then cleared his throat but only induced further coughing. Jenna, with the tips of her fingers, slid his mug of tea closer to him and he took it gratefully and sipped until he stopped sputtering, then carefully set it back on the table.

"Jenna, I...wish to appologize for yesterday," he said finally. "You did not deserve that, and I'm sorry."

She smiled and absently stirred her porridge with her spoon. "It's okay. I guess I should apologize too...I haven't been completely honest with you, after all. You had every right to get angry."

"No, I didn't," he insisted, shaking his head. "You could not have known just how much dishonesty bothers me. A...a single lie...ruined my life." He bit his lower lip and grimaced, then squeezed his eyes shut and reached out a hand that was trembling slightly to grasp his tea again. "I can't stomach it, nor can I understand how...or why..."

"I understand," Jenna said quickly. "I don't like it much either. In my experience a lie can be deadly, even if it's not intentional." She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin in them, looking at him. "I didn't mean to upset you, and I should have been clear about why I'm here. To make it up to you, ask me anything and I'll be honest about it."

He nodded, suddenly looking exhausted. "Why? Why are you here?"

"King Wrynn appointed me to guard you," she began. "He knows of your reports about something hunting you, and he wanted you protected. He...he thinks there may be blue dragons involved, because there have been reports of Stormwind's mages being attacked or stalked as well."

Datavian looked surprised, then his expression darkened. "He 'thinks.' Meaning the king also believes I may somehow be behind this."

Jenna nodded slowly. "Yes, he did mention he has those suspicions. I'm supposed to judge whether or not you could be the one behind it all."

He laughed bitterly. "And? What's your opinion?"

She smiled and bit her lip, then shook her head. "To be honest I doubt you could fend off a puppy, much less attack another person, in your current condition."

His expression blanked, then he smiled in spite of himself. "I...am not sure whether I should be grateful for that, or offended."

"Datavian, I want you to realize that I'm not here to harm you, or unfairly judge you," she went on. "King Wrynn told me little of you - I know you've had a terrible life, of some sort, and I won't ask you about that. If anything, knowing so little of you has made it easier to not judge you unfairly. I don't think you're behind any attacks that may or may not be happening...and if you are, you're damn good at hiding the fact," she added with a mischievious grin. "You've given me no reason to suspect you of any wrongdoings. I...well, I trust you. And I ask that you do the same for me."

To her surprise a relieved look came over his face, and he even leaned back in his chair and blew out a heavy sigh. "And here I was worried you would hate me for yesterday. This almost seems...too easy," he said.

"Hate you? Nah. But I may make you go to bed without supper tonight," Jenna replied dryly.

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head, and silence stretched between them. In the pause Jenna began to spoon cooling porridge into her mouth, watching him; he finally sat up straight and began to eat as well, appearing to purposely take a drink of tea between every bite. When their bowls were empty and Jenna was in the midst of cleaning them, he stood and moved to sit on the couch.

"If I may ask...have you always been a guard?"

Jenna shook water from her hands and began to dry the now-cleaned bowls with a dish rag. "Well, not always, no. I was, for several years, apprenticed to a dwarven smith."

"Is that where the Thunderforge part of your name comes from?"

She nodded, moving to put the bowls away. "Yes. I was orphaned when Stormwind fell, he-" she paused as she bent over and put the bowls in the cabinet, then shut the doors and stood back upright. "-he was the one I ended up with, when the boats reached Southshore. I ended up in Lordaeron with him, then we moved on to Dun Morogh...after a few years, while he never formally adopted me, he told me I was a Thunderforge."

Datavian grimaced. "I'm sorry if that brought up unpleasant memories."

Jenna returned to her chair at the table, turning it so she faced him. "Not unpleasant, not really. I've come to an understanding with my parents's deaths...I can't change what happened, and I doubt they'd want me to spend all of my time mourning them. I'm not even sure where their bones lay, to be honest...they were in the city when it fell, and died fighting. My father was a guard too, I guess that's where I got it from."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

She shrugged again. "Thank you, but it's not something I think about too often. There's some nights where it just...hits you, and you wish you could have done something, but what could I have done? I was just a girl then." She smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring. "Now if I COULD do something about it, now...like, say, return to that point in time and find them, I'd send them packing to the boats while I taught the orcs why they shouldn't have stepped foot in the kingdom of Stormwind."

Datavian chuckled a bit. "I imagine you'd make quite a sight."

"Well, who wouldn't want to see a bunch of grown orcs running in terror from a woman?" she laughed. "If I didn't kill them myself those watching would probably die of laughter."

"Yes, that would be something to see," he said, quickly moving to cover his mouth as he began coughing again.

Jenna looked at him in concern. "You know, your cough does worry me a bit. What are you taking to help with it?"

After he caught his breath he returned to his room then came out holding a bottle partially full of a cloudy green liquid. "It's earthroot infused with liferoot and silversage."

Jenna nodded - she'd actually had to drink some of the same stuff while in Northrend to help stave off colds and other sickness - and he placed it on the table beside her before returning to where he'd sat on the couch. "That should have helped you some by now...how much were you told to take each day?"

"About a mouthful every morning," he answered. "It does little more than soothe my throat, it would seem."

"Have you told anyone?"

"Just the priest who told me to take it in the first place. He told me it would take time to prove effective," he added with a snort. "I think I've spent time enough waiting on it to work, and hardly remember to take it every morning now."

"Well, you know it won't work unless you take it, right?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

He gave her a bemused look. "I think you're hardly qualified to be commenting on that, Madam Guard."

"That's Madam Guard Mother Hen, to you," she retorted, pointing at him. "Just because I'm not your standard nurse doesn't mean I don't care and that I'm not capable of taking care of someone who isn't bleeding buckets all over the place."

He winced. "Let us...hope I don't do that."

Jenna smiled at him. "That's sort of the reason why I'm here."

He chuckled quietly, then stood. "Shall we?"

She followed him outside into a morning where the air was heavy and wet; it would probably be raining by late afternoon, to Jenna's best estimation, and she was already frowning at the thought of walking back across Stormwind in a downpour. She could handle cold, she could handle heat, but being wet was something she'd never truly liked whether it was from rain or sweat...but, then, she was usually covered head to toe in heavy armor, which is what made the moisture so damned unpleasant. Eying what she called her 'town' wear - regular clothing, things not meant to be worn under armor - Jenna wondered what it would be like to be caught in the rain in actual articles of clothing.

And...that was a really strange thought to have. Gods but how her mind wandered when she wasn't concerned with her immediate survival...

"Jenna..."

Datavian's voice was casual, conversational, but she thought she could detect a hint of strain beneath it, though his expression was calm when she looked over at him.

"Yes?"

"There appears to be a man following us, by way of the rooftops."

Jenna stopped and turned, letting her gaze roam over the buildings around them. They weren't quite out of the Trade District yet, and now the crowd was beginning to jostle them a bit as the people went about their business but Jenna stood firm and squinted at each roof.

"Was he...a blonde-haired man? Leather armor? Looked a little shady?"

She glanced over to Datavian in time to see him nod, a puzzled look on his face as he returned her gaze. "Yes, in fact, he was. How did you...?"

Jenna turned and began walking again, Datavian falling into step at her side. "He's supposed to be helping me guard you, he watches at night when I sleep...so much for his promise at not being seen," she added dryly. "Feel free to throw something at him next time you see him."

Datavian coughed, eyebrows raising. "E-excuse me?"

She simply shrugged. "Well, you can. I don't particularly like the man...I've only spoken to him once and just that one time gave me the urge to punch him in the nose. Doesn't help that he smells like a drunken stable hand either."

"I see," Datavian said quietly.

They walked on in silence, passing over the canals and into Old Town, cutting through Old Town to reach Stormwind Keep. Datavian did not say much as he went back to his duties of book restoration, but Jenna fell into her usual chair by the table and propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand.

That Datavian had noticed Eliot and she hadn't worried her a bit. She was supposed to be protecting him, and if she'd not seen Eliot and he had been a threat instead of an ally...

Another thing she wondered at was why Eliot would be creeping about during the day. It was still early morning so perhaps he hadn't gone to sleep yet, but she would have thought he'd welcome the first opportunity to rest - if he was keeping watch on the roof as he had been that first night, then there'd be no way he could miss the fact that she was awake as she would always be leaving with Datavian in the morning.

Which...now that she thought about it, she should probably change that. If Datavian was truly being stalked then falling into a predictable routine could prove deadly for both her AND her charge.

Jenna mulled over that a moment, then mentally went back and tried to sort through what she remembered on their walk here. For the most part it was a wall of faces - no one she recognized, nothing at all threatening, and she hadn't noticed anything on the rooftops until Datavian had brought it to her attention. Perhaps...

"Datavian, how did you notice we were being followed?" she asked suddenly.

He looked up from where he was carefully inking in faded words. "How did I notice him? He set off one of my spell wards."

"...a what now?"

Datavian's brow furrowed as he looked at her, and she then felt as though she'd just asked the dumbest question. "A spell ward. I have several around me...the one he tripped was one meant to detect if someone was staring at me for far too long," he explained after a moment.

"Staring at you..." she repeated slowly. "How does that work?"

Now he shoved the book, inkpot, and quill away from him and turned to face her. "Well...it's sort of like a second awareness. It extends a ways around my physical body and 'looks' at where people are looking," he replied. "My subconscious keeps track of such things, and if the spell determines that someone is actively studying me, then it will bring it to my immediate attention...think of it as someone suddenly tapping your shoulder."

Jenna made a thoughtful noise deep in her throat, drumming her fingers on the table. "Huh. That's useful. And you're certain it was Eliot?"

"Is that the man's name?" Jenna nodded. "I would guess it was. The spell ceased alerting me when you turned to search for him."

She again hummed thoughtfully, and after a moment or two Datavian turned to go back to his inking, then paused again as Jenna leaned forward.

"What sorts of other...wards do you have in place?"

"Simple ones, truthfully. One that will protect me against most physical attacks - mainly blades, and only a few blows - and several that protect me from assaults against the mind. My home is warded against anyone simply teleporting themselves inside, and I've made it a haven against scrying."

"Scrying is...?"

His expression turned to one of amused exasperation. "Is that an honest question?"

Jenna smiled sheepishly. "Er, yes. I'm afraid I don't know much about magic...between my time as a dwarven smith's apprentice and my time as a guard, I was just a soldier. I've fought against magic users, mainly necromancers, and have an idea of how to stop a spellcast but as for understanding what actually goes into a casting, well...I'm rather clueless," she finished with a chuckle.

His exasperated expression had slowly turned to one of puzzled concern. "I find that a rather amazing thing to admit, for one who claims to be a soldier. I would think such knowledge would be of immense help."

Jenna leaned back in her chair, tipping it back onto the two back legs. "Er, well...it's not something you really have time to study, not when you're in a combat zone. When you're in the battle, it's killed or be killed, you don't have much of a chance to analyze your opponent when they're rushing down a hill at you, or over a barricade, or dropping in on you from the sky," she said quietly. She blinked a few times, each time seeing a different battle, a different fight, a different sort of death rushing at her. "At times it's flat out terrifying. You just do the best you can and pray you don't get killed."

Datavian snorted, and turned back to his inking. "So the king of Stormwind, who suspects blue dragons - the masters of magic - are after his mages, sends a guard who knows next to nothing about magic to protect me. Pardon my skepticism at both his wisdom and yours."

Jenna snapped her chair down back onto all four legs and fixed him with a glare. "I will have you know that I am no ordinary guard. I'm a damned Royal guard, and I'm a damned Champion of Stormwind besides, a title fought for and rightly earned. If I'm good enough to protect King Wrynn then I'm good enough to protect a mage, so you can shove your skepticism."

He flinched visibly at her words and almost meekly began to ink in letters. "...I am sorry I have angered you," he said quietly. "It just does not seem logical."

"Yeah, well, I don't know why he chose me for this job either," she muttered. "But he did, and I'm here, and you can rest assured that I'm not about to let anything harm you."

There was another moment of awkward silence, then "I'm sorry..."

She leaned back in her chair again, blowing out a sigh. "It's okay."

Several hours passed in silence before Datavian carefully cleared his throat, which drew Jenna's attention away from the doorway and back to him.

"Perhaps I...can help you."


	4. Chapter 4

The rain Jenna knew was coming lasted for nearly three days, making any time spent out of doors rather miserable, though most notably aggravating Datavian's cough to the point he could hardly budge himself from his bed.

Finally, late afternoon on the third day of rain Jenna left a frustrated, weakened, and wheezing Datavian in his bed and stepped outside to peer around. She was half-expecting to not see him at all, but sure enough Eliot was not on the roof and was instead huddled in the meager protection of a doorway, scrunched in and trying to avoid as much of the rain as possible. He looked at her silently when she waved for his attention but refused to move, so instead of shouting her business over the downpour Jenna growled to herself and stomped through the rain to stand near him.

"Tired of him finally?" he asked, once she was close enough.

Jenna, feeling the water beginning to soak in - and it was cold, lovely - simply pushed herself as close to the doorway as possible, trying to hide beneath the slight overhang. "He's sick and can barely breathe for all the coughing. Keep an eye on him, I'll be right back...I'm going to go get something to relieve his cough."

Eliot snorted. "Right. I'm wet, cold, miserable, tired, and now a babysitter. This day gets better and better."

"I won't be gone long," Jenna said blandly. "Just sit here, if you want. I'll be back in a bit."

She turned away and, being as she was already fairly wet, hunched her shoulders and headed out into the rain. She walked as fast as possible without falling into a jog and hurried across Stormwind's mostly deserted streets until she reached Slatefist's home - her home too, in a way. The door was unlocked as usual and she quickly stepped in out of the rain, dripping on the entryway as she took in the empty lower level.

"Dera? Are you home?" It was rather unusual for both Dera and Orwan to be absent from this bottom level, though it was hard telling where Orwan went some times; Jenna heard footsteps from upstairs and stayed where she was, still dripping water onto the floor, and waited. A moment later Dera appeared at the top of the steps, looking down at her in surprise.

"Well, look who's home. What're ye doin' so wet? Where have ye been?"

Jenna smiled. "I've been busy with an assignment King Wrynn gave me, and it's raining buckets outside. Dera, do you have any of that...that draught of yours?"

Dera, now down the stairs, rested her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Why? Ye fixin' ta get sick? Gettin' soaked'll do that to ye."

Jenna laughed and ducked her head. "Well, no, I'm not sick and I hope I don't get sick, but a friend of mine is ill and nothing he's done has helped him any."

"Ah," Dera replied, nodding to herself. "Ye want somethin' that'll cure all that ails 'im, or kill 'im tryin'."

"Well, the idea is NOT to kill him," Jenna snorted, then grinned. "Though once he tastes this stuff he may think otherwise."

Dera laughed and began to head back up the stairs. "Well, lemme' look dear. Been unseaonably warm so I haven't brewed any lately, so if I have any of it it's goin' to have quite a kick to it. Get yerself over ta the fire and dry off some."

Jenna headed over and sat down on the stone hearth, her back to the fire, and wrung out her hair as she listened to the occasional thump and thud from upstairs. After a few minutes Dera came back down, a corked bottle in her hand.

"Well, there ye are. Give him a few swallows of this ta start, and if he needs any more ye just come back."

Jenna shook water from her hand and took it; the liquid inside sloshed around - the bottle was only half-filled, if that, but it was better than nothing at all.

"Thank you, Dera. How much coin for it?"

The dwarf waved a hand and moved away, heading to the little stove in the corner. "Oh nah, I won't make ye pay for it. I make it meself, it's not like I'm bein' put out or anythin'. Ye just come around next time I'm a'brewin' and lend a hand and we'll call it even. Ye want a hot mug o' anything? You'll catch a cold if ye go around wet like that."

"No thank you, I need to get this to my friend before he coughs up his lungs," Jenna said with a smile, standing. She retraced her steps across the room and, with a wave goodbye, ducked out into the rain again.

She had one more stop to make, and luckily it was near to Datavian's home; Jenna once again rushed back across town and once she reached the Mage district she headed up the left-most street into a narrow alley of shops. The one she needed wasn't very far up the alley, and she once again stepped out of the rain and into a dim, cool, and earthy-scented store that was packed, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, with potted plants and clumps of hanging dried herbs, with only a few narrow aisles between them.

At the back of a store behind the counter a female night elf conversed quietly with a male human, but they both looked up as Jenna came inside and greeted her.

Jenna flipped wet hair from her face and smiled at them. "Rather wet outside today."

"I'll say," the night elf replied with a chuckle. "What brings you out in this deluge?"

"I'm looking for silversage, and also fresh mint, if you have either."

"We have both, in fact," the elf replied. "Is this for a...?"

"A bad cough," Jenna provided, and the night elf nodded. "I need it already ground, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," the night elf replied, coming out from behind the counter and quickly sorting through the dried herbs on the wall before selecting a bundle and then turning to the thriving plants that filled the store. When she'd found what she was looking for she returned to her counter and retrieved from behind it a mortar and pestle, and placed the plants inside and began to deftly grind them into a fine paste. Once she was satisfied, she carefully scooped the now-pale green goop into a small vial and stoppered it with a cork.

Jenna picked her way through the plants and slid a handful of silver coins to the elf, then took the vial and picked her way back to the door; she paused a moment, looked up at the rain that, if anything, seemed to be coming down harder than before, then hurried out into it and all but ran back to Datavian's.

Eliot hadn't budged from his doorway and even appeared to be asleep, much to her annoyance, but she was more concerned with getting herself out of the rain so berating him would have to wait for better weather. Once she was inside she immediately checked on Datavian and found that the mage was sleeping fitfully; since he wasn't currently conscious she had no qualms at all about quickly changing out of her wet clothing right there in the main room, and she even took the time to comb out and braid her soaking hair.

'At least now I don't look like a drowned rat,' she thought without much amusement.

Since Datavian was asleep she took her time in brewing two cups of tea, and only once the tea was ready did she quietly knock on his door. He must have been sleeping even more lightly than she'd thought, as his call of "enter" was nearly immediate; Jenna stuck the vial of crushed mint and silversage, along with the bottle of tonic from Dera, into her belt and carried a cup of tea in one hand and an empty mug in the other, then pushed the door open and looked in.

Datavian was sitting up on the bed, flinching and grimacing as he did his best to stifle his coughs, dark circles under his eyes making his face appear even thinner than it was. He watched her as she walked in, and finally he relented and coughed noisily into his hands as she came over and carefully set the cup of tea on a low table at his bedside.

"Here," she said, now sitting the empty mug next to the full one. It only took a moment to retrieve the vial and bottle from her belt, and with Datavian looking on she carefully popped the cork on the vial free; instantly the small room was filled with the scent of mint, and Jenna pressed the vial into Datavian's hand.

"Take this, and either keep it where you can smell it or rub some just beneath your nose. It'll help ease your breathing," she explained. "And, well, this..."

She unscrewed the top of the bottle, and a smell much like rock polish mingled with the mint; at Datavian's look Jenna smiled slightly.

"It's, uh, going to taste terrible. But I promise it will help...I can either put it in your tea, or you can drink it straight."

Datavian sniffed, coughed for several moments, then fixed her with a sour look. "Straight. If you put it in the tea I'll have to suffer through it longer."

Jenna nodded and grabbed the empty mug she'd brought, pouring out about three mouthfuls before screwing the top back on and pressing the mug into his hands. He inhaled deeply, stifled another cough, then threw his head back and drank it as quickly as possible; Jenna quickly traded him the cup of tea for the now-empty mug, and he took four deep gulps before taking a fifth mouthful and swishing it around. Once he finally swallowed, the look he gave her was venomous.

"That was by far-" he paused, coughing, "-the most vile thing I've ever had the misfortune of having in my mouth."

"I know what you mean," Jenna replied. "I've had to take it myself. If I didn't know first-hand that it worked, I wouldn't have given it to you." She stood with empty mug and bottle of tonic in hand, then pointedly looked at the vial of mint where he'd sat it on the bed beside him. "Like I said, make sure you can really smell that, it'll help."

She headed back to the doorway, pausing to look back at him and to also hook her foot around the base of the door. "Get some rest, I'll wake you up for dinner." With that, she tugged the door closed behind her and put the bottle of tonic and the mug on the table, then flopped down on the couch and sipped at her own cup of now-cooled tea while listening to the rain outside.

* * *

It was hard to believe that an entire month had gone by, and then some. Jenna had been living with Datavian the entire time, and this entire time she'd seen no sign at all of anything stalking the mage; she was also surprised at how normal her days seemed now. She'd adjusted to her routine as a caretaker, and hadn't found it as boring as she'd once imagined - was this what civilian life was like? Was this what she would be doing once the fighting in Northrend was over? She really hoped she wasn't losing her fighting edge, as Icecrown and Arthas still waited sometime in the near future, and Varian would need her...

Immediately she smiled to herself; she would be more than ready to stand at Varian's side and fight, and possibly lay down her life if she had to, to safeguard both her king and his kingdom. Thinking otherwise was foolish as she hadn't struggled through that damn tournament for nothing, after all. They would prevail in Northrend, and once they had THEN she would worry about what life afterward would be like. She wouldn't be living with this Datavian forever, after all - life would change, as it always would.

Today, when Datavian had come from his room to join her for breakfast, she was pleased to see that he looked healthier now than he'd ever looked before. His face was gaining some color, and he appeared to have even put on a few pounds of weight - his skeletal, gaunt appearance was slowly softening and though he still looked ridiculously lean he at least didn't resemble walking death anymore.

"I heard the door," he said as he sat down.

Jenna nodded, sliding into her own chair. "Yes, there was a messenger for me. I have an audience with King Wrynn this evening."

"About me."

She shrugged. "Probably. I can't see what else he'd want to see me for."

Honestly she was surprised that it had taken over an entire month for Varian to contact her; she had figured he would have been after her after the second week. Already she was mentally tallying everything she had that he would be interested in hearing about...and it was a pathetically short list.

There had been no sign of a stalker. Datavian, while willing - and, some days, even eager - to talk with her on any number of subjects, still had refused to speak about himself aside from the odd comment or two that seemed to just slip out. All she'd really learned about him was he hated liars, valued honesty, valued loyalty, and would defend to the death anyone he truly cared about. That wasn't anything Varian would likely be interested in hearing, and she hadn't completed her "task" as it had been given to her - learn about Datavian's past, and learn what was hunting him.

She snapped out of her reverie as Datavian cleared his throat and steepled his fingers in front of his face.

"I...am sorry I have wasted so much of your time," he said after a moment. "I feel like such a fool. There was something hunting me...I know there was. And yet..."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Jenna said quickly, sensing he was about to send himself into one of his foul moods. Once he got into one of those moods he didn't hardly speak at all - and she mentally added this to her list of things she'd learned about him - and she wanted him to remain talkative. "I believe you when you say there was something. It may be that my presence here is enough of a deterrent for it."

He smiled grimly. "Or, it may be that your presence here and a lack of evidence to back my claim only gives others a reason to believe I was behind the other attacks on mages."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling. "You know, I don't know a damn thing about those other attacks. King Wrynn only mentioned them briefly, and being as I've spent all my waking hours with you I can't even tell you if those attacks have continued. If they have, it may be what was bothering you is concentrating on them, and if they're not then who knows what other explanations there may be?" She took a few drinks of her water, then looked at him from over the rim of her mug. "If it is truly the blue dragonflight behind it all then you're a target just by being a mage, not because of who you are otherwise. Not everyone is out to get you, Datavian."

"I am still sorry that you've wasted your time here and have nothing to show for it."

Jenna laughed. "Nothing to show for it? You haven't coughed in days, and you don't look like death warmed over anymore. I'd say that's something."

His face colored some. "Er, well."

She waved a hand at him, rolling her eyes. "Yes, yes, entirely not your point, right? I've caught on that you don't seem to give a damn as to whether you live or die."

"No," he said quietly, staring down into his lap. "I do give a damn...I have to, I..."

"You...what?" she prompted.

He looked up, narrowing his eyes. "Nothing."

She held up her hands in what she hoped was a placating gesture. "Okay, okay, sorry, no need to glare at me. It's just...I've told you a great deal about me, I was kind of hoping you'd do the same, even if it's just a tiny bit."

"My past is none of your business," he said brusquely. "And I advise you to drop the subject."

"Sorry, I just want to help you," she sighed. After a moment of awkward silence she suddenly had a thought, something she'd nearly forgotten, and luckily it would suffice for a subject change. "Datavian...do you remember a week or so ago, we were both in the library as usual...you ah, had made me just a tad angry, and you'd said something along the lines of helping me?"

He stared at her blankly. "...I said what?"

Jenna tapped her fingers on the table a moment, thinking, then slapped her hand down. "That's right. You said 'perhaps I can help you.' It was after you were less than confident in my ability to protect you," she added dryly.

His face lit up in recognition. "Ah, yes, that...I believe I fell ill not too long afterwards, and I'd completely forgotten I'd said it."

"Well, what did you mean by it?"

His face flushed slightly. "I was...offering to instruct you in some basic magics, or at least teach you a few things to possibly make your battles easier."

She bit her lip to keep from grinning at him; he looked absolutely embarrassed, even fidgeting in his chair, and she had to admit it was the first time she'd seen him look that way. In a way, it was pleasing to see - maybe she was finally getting somewhere with him, even if he still refused to talk about himself. Offering to teach her had to mean he was truly beginning to trust her, right?

Well, at least she hoped that was the case...and even if it was, she still had nothing to tell Varian when she reported to him that evening.

'Oh well,' she thought with a mental sigh.

Either way...she kept her smile on her face. "Oh. Well...I'd be grateful for that, thank you."

He swallowed visibly, then nodded; some of the red to his face faded some. "Very well. I can begin instructing you whenever you like."

She thought a moment. "...in the evenings, then. If I'm concentrating on learning I won't be paying much attention to the things around me. In the evening, when Eliot takes up the watch and I can relax my guard a bit."

He nodded again, and they began their trip across Stormwind for the library - taking a much longer, more meandering route, as Jenna had begun to randomly change their course every day - and as they walked Jenna was thinking once again. Maybe she would actually learn something worth reporting to Varian, along with learning something that may save her life in the future.

Every few steps she glanced over at the mage. Most days he stared straight ahead and paid no attention to his surroundings; today, however, he seemed intent on staring at his own feet, and as she watched he sometimes mouthed something to himself. Was he casting? Speaking with someone magically?

Datavian suddenly looked over at her and caught her staring at him; she felt her cheeks heat even as his eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Just wondering what you're thinking," she said lamely. "I noticed you're not working hard at ignoring the world today, was wondering what you're up to."

He rolled his eyes but managed to look exasperated. "I forgot to put up my wards this morning, that is all."

"I see."

"What?" he asked, focusing again on where he was walking more so he wouldn't have to look at her. "It's true."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound accusatory or anything. It's just, you deviated from your normal behavior, I was wondering if something was wrong."

He stopped walking and stared up into the sky for a moment, inhaling deeply before looking at her again. "I...am second-guessing the wisdom of teaching you, that is all...and I DID forget to cast my wards," he added dryly.

She had stopped and turned to face him, confused. "Why second-guess yourself? I mean, if you don't want to teach me anything that's fine, but why...?"

"I am...tonight you may very well be ordered to leave me," he said after a moment's pause. "If you are ordered to do such a thing, there would be no reason for you to continue spending your time in my company. If I hadn't forgotten that I hadn't actually offered...I mean, had I actually offered when I had intended to, and not let it slip my mind, I might have actually proven useful to you."

Jenna found herself smiling at him, shaking her head. "Oh for...don't blame yourself, you got sick after all."

"There will be no need to concern yourself with me after tonight is my guess," he went on, beginning to walk again.

Jenna fell in beside him. "Well of course there's a reason to concern myself with," she replied dryly. "Even if you hadn't offered to instruct me on magic - which would indeed be very helpful for me - did you think I'd gone this entire month without coming to like you, just a little bit even?"

Now it was he who stopped in the middle of the street, staring at her with an expression that was part surprise, part suspicion. "You? Like me?"

"Well, yes," she answered, "and I mean that. You're a pain in the ass to talk to, but you're not a bad person."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why bother?" he asked bluntly and abruptly began to walk at a much faster pace so that Jenna had to nearly jog to keep up with him.

"Because I care?" she answered incredulously. "I'm not made of ice, Datavian."

He continued to walk quickly, and she just jogged alongside him, staring; he remained silent until they were nearly out of Old Town and to the Keep, and finally Jenna dragged him to a stop. "What'd I do now?" she asked.

"You are my guardian, you shouldn't be my friend."

The overwhelming urge to swat his bald head came over her, and she forced it out of her mind. "You have some of the dumbest...just because I'm your guardian means I can't be your friend?"

He took several steps, Jenna right on his heels, then he stopped suddenly enough that she nearly ran into him, and for a moment he just looked at her. "...I don't see why you'd want to."

"What I want is to shove you into the canals at the moment," she growled. "Why are you afraid of people, Datavian?"

He flinched, and spun away. "I'm...not."

"You are," she countered. "You'd have to be, to isolate yourself so thoroughly from them."

"I don't isolate myself. I walk amongst the people of Stormwind on a daily basis."

"That's not exactly interacting if you just walk on by," she said dryly. She hurried to catch up to him as he began to walk up the hallway to the passage that led to the library. "You don't talk to anyone unless you must, you rarely even make eye contact. You-"

He spun around again and this time she did collide with him, and he grabbed her forearms in a grip tighter than she would have expected from him. She, for an instant, thought he looked angry enough to strike her, but he then let her go and kept walking.

"I do not like people because they do not like me," he called over his shoulder. "The less we have to do with one another, the better. I was a fool to make such an offer to you, and I am sorry."

"How could you know they don't like you if you never talk to them?" she went on, once again hurrying to draw even with him. "You are no fool. Datavian, won't you please tell me honestly why you hide yourself away?"

He was silent until they reached the doorway of the library. Just beyond the doorway he stopped, and turned slowly, and fixed her with a stare that was devoid of emotion. "They believe I murdered my mother, and I did," he whispered. "They see me, and they think that. I've seen their looks, and their sneers, and I've heard the whispers. They cannot fathom why I have not been put to death for my crime...and they don't even know half of what I've done, no...they don't even know half of it."

"But you didn't," she blurted. He stared still, and she swallowed and felt as though she was standing on the lip of a deep hole. "I was told...some of what your brother told King Wrynn. I know you were enslaved by a...I don't even know what, a demon, or a monster, or something. I know that your actions were not your own for many years. You can't blame yourself for-"

"These hands, Jenna," he interrupted, holding up his hands between them. "These hands took my mother's life, and took the lives of countless others. It may not have been my will behind the actions, but the shell is still guilty, and the soul within guilty by association."

"Bull manure," Jenna snapped, voice now tinged with a hint of anger. "That's ridiculous."

"That is truth," he said firmly.

She was shaking her head before he'd even finished speaking. "No, that's manure. If I had a puppet, and made my puppet hit you, is it the puppet's fault or is it the fault of the one pulling the strings?"

"The blood spilled stains the puppet, and never touches the puppet master."

"Stop it, just stop it," she growled. "You-"

"You don't know the first thing of what that woman did to me!" he suddenly bellowed at her.

"No, I don't," she shouted back. "Because you won't talk about it, and because you won't tell anyone the truth. That's why they whisper, IF they whisper and it's not just some figment of your paranoid imagination."

For several breaths he simply glared at her, opening and closing his mouth without speaking; Jenna took several deep breaths and blew them out slowly. She hated losing her temper, but this man was just frustrating; it all seemed so simple to her - people whisper because they don't know, so why not tell so they'd know and stop whispering? No matter how terrible his life had been, surely it wasn't so bad as enduring whispers and rumors and whatever else he may think may be going on behind his back now. Light help her, but his stupid stubborness somewhat reminded her of Carona - maybe that was why she found she liked him.

"...you are asking me to go back to a very dark place," he whispered after a pause. "I can't. I won't. It is painful, and terrible, and I won't do it. I just want to be left alone to...to start over."

The look on his face was bordering on miserable, and that haunted look that had never left his eyes the entire time she'd been with him deepened. Instantly she felt bad for snapping at him, and again took a few deep breaths and exhaled her anger out right along with them. Feeling much calmer, she gestured to the chairs at his work table, and surprisingly he went and sat without argument. He sat rigidly, hands clenched into fists and staring straight ahead; inwardly Jenna wondered if she got to him as quickly as he got to her some times.

She walked over and pulled out her chair, and still he didn't move beyond blinking and breathing. "Datavian, you think you want those things, but you can't have both. You can either be alone, or you can start over...but part of starting over is actually becoming part of the world again."

"You don't know that."

"Do you think you can make it through the rest of your life without speaking to a single person?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He still stared straight ahead, and she sighed. "You can't start over, truly start over, without being human."

"I am human."

"Physically, yes. Mentally, you have the humanity of a carrot." Now he jerked around and glared at her, and she smiled slightly. "Well, you do. You're just...here. You don't seem to care. About yourself, or anyone else."

"I have those I care about," he muttered.

"Who?"

"My brother. My father. My sister-in-law, and the child she carries."

"That's it?" He nodded, and she shrugged. "It's a start, but can you live your life with just them?"

"It is enough," he snapped.

"Is it though?" she went on. "What if your brother moves away? Will you follow him? And when your father dies of old age, what then? Part of living is having a life too."

He laughed, a sharp bitter noise. "As though you have any right to speak of such things."

Jenna found herself clenching her hands around the table's edge, and she willed her grip to loosen, then took another deep breath. "Fine then. I will show you someone who does."

With him staring on blankly, she hunted through the items on the table until she found a torn page he had removed days earlier from a book; it was worn, the ink faded, but it would suffice for the reason she needed it. She tugged his quill and inkpot toward her and quickly scribbled out a message on the parchment fragment, then got up and walked from the room into the hallway.

She approached the first guard she spotted outside of the library and peered in through his helm slit, and was glad when she recognized the brown eyes staring back at her.

"Devlin, are you able to take a message to Kyle for me?"

"I can, yes, so long as I am not gone from my post for too long."

She carefully folded the parchment up and pressed it into Devlin's waiting hand. "If you have to wake him up then do so, it's important he gets this."

Devlin nodded. "I can do that, but if he gets angry I'm pointing him your direction."

Jenna smiled as he hurried off. "You do that, I can handle him," she called after the departing guard.

That done, she hurried back to find Datavian had not so much as twitched from where she'd left him. She stood silently a moment just behind him, then reached down and grabbed him by a forearm and bodily hauled him from his chair.

"I- what - put me down!" he sputtered at her as she kicked the chair out of the way and pulled him back the way she'd come.

She ignored his protests and managed to get him nearly out of the Keep entirely before he finally managed to get his feet entirely under him and dug in his heels.

"Let me go," he hissed at her.

Keeping her grip against his struggles she turned and looked at him, smiling and raising an eyebrow. "You want to start over, so we're starting over. First order of business, you're going to thank the dwarven woman who brewed the tonic that made you healthy. We are going to do that now, whether you like it or not, even if I have to drag you every step of the way."

"I - what - this - I can walk!" he finally snapped, pulling away as Jenna let go of him.

She faced him, hands on her hips. "Are you going to follow me willingly?"

"I do not have to do this. I do not have to do anything."

"Then we're back to dragging," Jenna said simply.

Datavian backpedaled but she lunged forward and seized first a handful of his sleeve, then managed to get a hand around his wrist. As she pulled him forward he too pulled, back, but Jenna was both stronger and weighed more than him; she effortlessly pulled him forward. He suddenly pushed closer, close enough that they were nearly nose to nose with Jenna still having an iron grip on his wrist.

He brought his free hand up and lightning danced at the fingertips; for a brief instant she almost let her instincts take over, which would have likely ended with Datavian face down in the canals, but then she checked her urges and stopped, looking between the hand and his face, and was surprised to see he looked almost panicked.

"Are you going to blast me with your magic?" she asked after a moment.

The hand with the lightning trembled. "P-please just...let go of me," he whispered.

"Will you walk?"

"I will walk, just...let go."

Jenna released him and he pulled back like a kicked dog, inhaling deeply. He was trembling slightly, and staring intently at his feet; Jenna carefully reached out for him, her fingers just barely touching his shoulder and he flinched at the contact.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded, and closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I...will be, I just. I'm sorry. It was..."

Jenna let her hand's weight fall fully on his shoulder and could feel how he still shook, but he at least did not flinch from her this time. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I know that," he said quietly. "I honestly...surprised myself. It wasn't a conscious reaction...I'm...I'm very sorry."

"Come on, come this way, there's a place we can sit."

Jenna guided him around the canals and into the Cathedral district, then to the center of the district where stone benches circled around a fountain that currently wasn't filled. Datavian looked up at the Cathedral of Light and laughed bitterly before settling down onto one of the benches with his back to the cathedral; Jenna flopped down beside him, her hands resting across her knees.

Datavian tilted his head back and turned his face to the sky, closing his eyes again. "When my brother brought me back to Stormwind, I was near death."

Jenna looked over at him in surprise - partially because of what he'd just uttered, and partially because he had uttered it. It was the first personal thing he'd said without her having to drag it out of him...

"I spent a great deal of time recovering inside that cathedral...enduring the quiet scorn and disapproval of the priests there."

"I'm sure that's just your imagination," Jenna said into the silence that followed.

He chuckled. "I wish it was." After a moment he lowered his head and stared at the empty fountain. "I wish many things had been just my imagination...just a dream."

"Lots of people wish that. I sometimes wish the orcs had never come to our world...my parents would be alive still. I wish the Scourge had never happened, countless people would still be alive. I wish many things, but if wishes were fishes I could fill the ocean, as my mother used to say," Jenna said, smiling at the stone between her boots. "All you can do is keep moving forward."

He grunted quietly, then grimaced. "Can we move, please? My father dwells within the cathedral with the paladins, and I'd...rather he did not find me here."

"Oh, sure," Jenna said, standing quickly.

He levered himself off the bench and mutely followed her back out of the district to the canals, both of them stopping on one of the bridges over the waterway. Jenna looked down at their reflections in the water, then squatted down on her heels and looked up at Datavian. He was looking down into the canals as well, but he seemed to be staring far beyond them - there was a definite feel of distance to his eyes, and she found herself thankful that for now, at least, he didn't have that blasted haunted look to him.


	5. Chapter 5

There was something he constantly dwelled on; she didn't dare ask him what it was, not directly anyhow, but it seemed he could be temporarily distracted from it, like he was now. She entertained the thought of finding some way to distract him from it indefinitely, maybe catch him offguard and get him to reveal something he wouldn't otherwise have told her...but, no, that was dishonorable and -

'I wish I understood this man,' Jenna thought to herself ruefully, interrupting her own train of thought. "She won't bite, I promise, though she may attempt to feed you," she said aloud after a moment.

Datavian twitched, the distance in his gaze disappearing to be replaced with his usual guarded, haunted look. "I'm sorry...what?"

"Dera. The dwarf who brewed that tonic. I'm still taking you to see her, today."

A strained smile crossed his features. "Whether I want to or not."

She chuckled. "Yeah, even if I have to cart you there like a sack of potatoes. You probably don't even weigh as much as a sack of potatoes," she added with a grin.

He blew out a sigh, then shook his head. "Lead on then, I suppose, as I don't seem to have a choice in the matter."

Jenna stood back up and dusted her knees, then led the way across the bridge and into the dwarven district of Stormwind. As usual the smell of lit forges, both acrid and pleasant as metal blended with charcoal and woodsmoke, enveloped her as they passed beneath the arches. She led them through the street and around an area full of forges and tents - usually she entered this part of town from the Keep side, not from the cathedral entrance, so there was actually more ground to cover coming from this direction, though not much.

Datavian stifled a weak cough as they walked, sniffling as they quickly moved passed the forges and the dwarves, gnomes, and men working at them. He seemed surprised as many of them called out to Jenna, greeting her; she waved soundlessly in recognition but kept moving, making sure Datavian stayed with her.

Finally, Jenna stepped up to the door of a dwelling and fished around in her belt a moment before pulling out a key.

"I wonder if she's even here, the door isn't usually locked," she explained when she caught him looking at her. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning when she noticed Datavian hesitating in the doorway. "Come on, inside."

He inhaled deeply and stepped over the threshold, and as he did so a dwarf woman came bustling into the room.

"Oh, that Orwan, lockin' the door again. He should know better by now, I heard the key a'rattlin'. What are ye doin' dear?"

Jenna smiled warmly and shifted on her feet so Datavian had a clear view of the dwarf. "Dera, this is Datavian Sullivan, the friend I needed the tonic for. Just wanted to show you that it didn't kill him, and he wanted to thank you."

Several emotions flitted across Datavian's face in the span of a half second - fear, panic, venom, then resignation - and as Dera hurried over he swallowed hard and bowed. "Yes, thank you. I would likely still be ill had I not-"

A confused look then battled panic on Datavian's face as Dera walked right up to him and, in her usual mother hen fashion, began to fuss over him. "Sullivan? James's boy? Well look at 'im! Have ye been starvin' 'im?" Dera interrupted. "Ye all skin and bone! How long was ye sick? Are ye hungry? Come in out of that doorway and sit ye'self down, lad."

Jenna bit her lip to keep from laughing; Datavian sent her a pleading look as the dwarf began to guide him further into the room.

"We're due elsewhere, actually, Dera. He just wanted to come by and say thank you."

"Well, ye take better care o' him, ye hear? Get 'im to eat somethin' before he falls over. Moradin's beard, a stiff breeze could knock 'im over! And ye come home sometime, girl, ye hear? Big ol' house like this feels all empty when Orwan ain't here to keep me company. An' ye, ye come back if ye ever need a meal, lad," she added, patting his hand before stepping back from him with a smile.

Jenna nodded and stooped to give the woman a one-armed hug, then gently took Datavian by the arm and guided him back to the door. Once outside she let go of him and he walked, seemingly in a daze, at her side silently until they were back in the library, where he retrieved his chair from earlier and sank into it. Jenna sat down in the other chair and watched him for any sort of reaction, and waited.

Finally, he turned to her, still with that dazed look on his face. "She...knew who I was, didn't she?"

"James is the name of your father, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then I'd say she does."

He shook his head slowly, still looking at her. "She knew who I was, and yet...?"

"And yet she mothered you?" Jenna prompted. He nodded silently, and she shrugged. "That's just her nature. She's been married to Orwan, oh...well, I haven't a clue how long, but they've never had children. She'll mother anyone who walks through her door if she thinks they need it, it doesn't matter who you are."

"Why would she do that?"

"She is what she is."

"No, I mean..." Datavian paused, carefully clasping his hands on the table in front of him. "She knows my name, she somehow knows my father...she cannot NOT know about...about what I did-"

"-whether she does or doesn't know what you did," Jenna interrupted, "that doesn't change how she's going to treat you."

"It should."

"Well, in her mind and in her world, it doesn't," she said dryly. "I'm not sure how she knows your father, but she obviously holds nothing against you. I'd wager that many others would feel the same, and I'd also wager that not many even know of your family's history, or even know your name. You need to let go of this guilt and really try your hand at building a normal life."

"I cannot."

"Then there's no point in starting over," she sighed. "You'll never start over unless you start fresh."

He sat silently a moment, then inhaled deeply. "Where else are you dragging me today?"

"Mm?"

"You stated we had somewhere else to be, when we were visiting the dwarf woman. Where?"

Jenna stretched her legs out in front of her and leaned her chair back on two legs. "I sent word to a few friends of mine...they're guards, like I am. You're eating dinner with them, and me, tonight, specifically Kyle - well, Kyle Connor, the man of the two first names as we call him. Since you won't take my words on starting over, maybe you'll listen to him...I know no other man who has lost so much, repeatedly."

Datavian flinched, a pained expression crossing his face. "Must I? I really don't...don't want to be around many people."

"Kyle was also in Stormwind when it fell...he escaped on the same fleet of ships as I, and King Wrynn, and the other survivors did. He lost his entire family except for his mother, his brother, and his grandfather. He made it to Lordaeron and rebuilt his life...eventually married, got hired on as a horse breeder's apprentice, and lost his grandfather, wife, and brother to Arthas and the Scourge. He escaped and for a time served in Outland...he was captured and held prisoner by the fel orcs, forced to watch his men be killed one by one. When he returned from Outland, his mother had died of illness."

As she spoke Jenna watched Datavian's face. The pained expression slowly was replaced by one of sadness; Kyle had definitely seen his share of loss and sorrow, and yet he was one of the most friendly people she'd ever met. Did Datavian feel sorry for the man? Maybe. He was definitely listening to her, at least. Maybe he'd listen to Kyle...or at least find the man "safe" enough to want to be around. Maybe all he really needed was to just be around people and get used to them.

"If you want to see how someone can start over, he'd be the man you should talk to."

Datavian sighed and put his face in his hands. "Again, I'm sensing I have no choice in the matter."

"None at all, really."

"Why do you care?" he asked, exasperated. "You're just here to protect me, not expand my social world."

"Because it seems like you need someone to care," she replied dryly. "What shelves do you have left in here anyway?"

She must have caught him unaware with the abrupt change of subject, for all he did for a few breaths was just look at her. Finally he shook his head and blew out another sigh.

"That shelf by the door, the three bottom shelves."

"And then you're done?"

"And then I'm done. It could be anywhere from a day to a week's worth of work."

"What will you do then?"

"That is ultimately for King Wrynn to decide. Now where are we going?"

She chuckled at him. "Pig and Whistle tavern, though we don't need to leave yet."

Datavian pushed himself to his feet and slowly made his way to the shelves he had mentioned. "Does it not bother you...no, nevermind."

"Does it bother me, what?"

He bent low and ran fingers over the books silently, then just shook his head. "It is nothing, nevermind."

Jenna watched as he began pulling books free, carefully opening them and assessing their conditions she guessed. He was very particular about it, too - he seemed to give each book a thorough once-over, like he was mentally making a list of everything he'd need to do to repair it. She watched as his hands gently handled cracked and crumbling pages, and how he shifted to balance himself so he was sitting on his heels so that he could cradle the book he was examining in his lap.

'Had he even been able to do that previously?' she thought to herself, picturing the coughing and weakened man she'd met only a month ago. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to picture Datavian bent over like that - he probably would have coughed up his own lungs within a matter of moments.

With a start she consciously realized where her train of thought had wandered, and she laughed to herself. Mother Hen indeed.

* * *

When she'd said it was time to go he'd stood without complaint and mutely followed her from the library - as he'd stated earlier, he didn't seem to have a choice in the matter.

In a way, Datavian greatly hoped he could find some way to sit there, eat, and not speak, but...he doubted he'd be left alone. Gods...even the thought of being questioned about his past made his stomach clench and turn over on itself.

He stole a glance at the woman he walked with, snorting out a sigh with some degree of exasperation and annoyance. It was ridiculous, he knew - not her being ridiculous, but him. He was actually rather surprised at himself; all this time he had expressed how he wished she'd go, how'd she leave and stop wasting her time with her. If he had really wanted her gone all he'd likely need have done was to speak to King Wrynn...and he hadn't.

It was odd, to be sure. The thought was there in the back of his mind, yet he'd never acted on it. In fact, he was a little shocked with himself - why hadn't he gone to King Wrynn? Jenna was friendly enough but not someone he'd consider a friend, and he'd taken pains to be certain of that and make sure he did not grow too close to her. She was someone he was tolerating, and if his guess was correct she'd likely be moving out of his life this evening...so why had he tolerated her this long?

Well...he did have to admit he was grateful that she'd cured his cough. That blasted sickness had made life more miserable than it already was and he was very glad it was finally gone, but then again...maybe it would have gone away with time, without Jenna's assistance.

His stomach growled quietly then, and he smiled to himself. He may want nothing to do with Jenna and her friends, but at least they were going to eat.

He glanced at her again. She was a friendly person...kind and caring as well. She would be better off without him in her life, and he'd be better off being left alone where he couldn't hurt anyone.

* * *

King Wrynn was sitting in the private garden when Jenna was led to him. He wasn't wearing his armor and his hair was down, and he looked exhausted in the flickering light of the lantern next to him - as she drew closer she saw there was an open book in his lap, which explained the presence of the lantern.

She waited until he noticed her, then saluted smartly; he nodded and gestured for her to come closer, then indicated a patch of grass.

"Go ahead and sit, I'm too tired to bother with formalities."

Jenna came and sat across from him. "Is there something wrong?"

"Just the usual stress from running a kingdom and also managing the matters of the Alliance forces in Northrend. The final push is coming, Jenna, and coming soon."

Jenna glanced at the book in his lap before he closed it and set it aside - it was a history book of some sort.

"Tell me, how goes your time with the mage Sullivan?"

"I...am not sure where to start," Jenna said after a moment's pause. "It's somewhat of a strange situation with him."

"Begin wherever you like, I'll ask questions as they occur to me."

"Very well then, ah...well, I've helped him get his health back, at least," Jenna began, crossing her legs and leaning back with her arms behind her. "He's stronger now, though still lean. He at least doesn't look like he's about to keel over at the drop of a hat."

Varian nodded. "Any idea what plagued him?"

"No, but a tonic brewed up by the dwarven woman I live with cured him...though every time he went to take a dose I think he wanted to kill me," she added with a chuckle. "If it's not alcohol, anything dwarven-brewed tastes terrible."

"That doesn't surprise me," Varian said dryly. "What have you learned about him?"

Jenna paused a moment, thinking. What HAD she learned of him? "Well, he despises dishonesty. I found that out accidently when he lost his temper because he thought I was lying to him...I'd hazard a guess that he even fears being lied to, he uh, he mentioned something about a lie being what ruined his life in the first place. It's very hard to talk about his past - it's tricky to tease anything out of him, and asking directly doesn't get you anywhere."

Varian made a thoughtful noise. "I wonder...when his story was explained to me, a woman not of this world named Daranara was the one who had enslaved him. Perhaps this woman is the one who lied, or someone in her employ, in order to first gain Sullivan's trust...make it easier for him to be dominated."

Jenna shrugged. "Maybe. As I said, I can't ask him about anything directly, he just won't talk about it. Pressing him on the subject gets him to where he won't talk at all."

"I see. Continue, please."

"Dishonesty bothers him...ah, well. If you ask me, I think he's afraid of people."

Varian gave her a look. "Afraid of people?"

"Yes, afraid of them...he's always going on about how people judge him, about how he doesn't deserve the kindness or friendship of others. He doesn't speak to anyone unless directly spoken to, and he even seems to go out of his way to avoid interaction. He carries a great deal of guilt over what happened to him, and what he did while under that...Dara woman's control."

Jenna fell silent, shifting so she was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees; Varian appeared to be deep in thought and she allowed her gaze to roam over him. Even exhausted he was incredibly -

"So he sequesters himself, then?"

Jenna wrenched her thoughts back onto the matter at hand. "Seems that way. From the way he talks about it, it seems the only people he does speak to is his immediate family - and me, of course," she added. "It's...sad, really. He isn't a bad person if you can get him talking, I'll even admit I rather sort of like him...he's not the evil person he likes to paint himself as, he just...well, seems he needs to find a way to relieve himself of his guilt, and just start over. He's stated he wants to start over, even."

Varian grimaced and rotated his shoulders, stifling a yawn as he did so. "I'm torn whether to call this foolish or admirable. It's probably both, come to think of it. I cannot understand why he carries the guilt with him though - it's my understanding that he was under someone else's control when he killed his mother. Her blood is not on his hands, but on the hands of the one who forced his body to commit the crime."

"He still blames himself for what happened," Jenna replied. "He gave a pretty little speech on it, even."

"Have you found out how he was captured and enslaved, beyond someone lying to him?" Jenna shook her head. "Try and discover the reason there, then. That may give us an insight as to why he believes it is his fault."

"So I'm still to guard him then?"

Varian shook his head. "No, that is something I did wish to speak to you about. Has there been any sign of anything stalking the mage?"

"Not at all, sir." He gave her a sour look at 'sir' and she blushed slightly. "Sorry." She paused, then leaned toward him. "I don't think he's behind the attacks on the other mages though."

"I know he isn't," Varian said curtly. "During your time with him six mages have gone missing or have been attacked." He went back to the book in his lap and leafed through the pages until he plucked something from between them and held it out to her.

Jenna held out her hand and Varian dropped a glittering blue scale into her palm; it was the size of a gold coin and thick, but there was no mistaking what it was.

"Those behind the attacks are indeed the blues. Your mage is innocent."

She balanced the scale on her knee. "What now, then? For me, that is."

"I wish for you to begin instructing Anduin. I will make other arrangements for the Mage Quarter...a single guard, even if she is my champion, won't do much to prevent further attacks," Varian added with a chuckle. "You cannot be everywhere at once, and there is a fair number of mages within the walls of Stormwind." He began to stand, grimacing as he moved. "I will leave it up to you as to how you discover more about this mage."

"He's offered to teach me magic, actually," Jenna replied, standing with him. "In the evenings. He believed it would help me in combat and I think so too."

"As do I. Very well, learn magic from the mage and learn what you can about him. Report back to me tomorrow morning and I will show you where you will be teaching my son."

"As you order, Varian." She saluted, then suddenly remembered. "Oh, about Datavian's punishment..."

"Yes?"

"He is nearly finished with every book in the library. What do you want him to do afterwards?"

Varian tucked the book he held under an arm, staring at her silently for several moments. "...tell him when he is finished, he's free to start building that new life of his. He has served his sentence."

Jenna nodded and saluted again; Varian smiled slightly and nodded, then left. She stayed in the garden and waited until he was out of sight, then bent and retrieved the dragonscale from the ground. In the light from the abandoned lantern, and the light of the moon from above, it shone with an oily sheen flecked through with glittering specks. She tucked it into a pocket and left the garden, hurrying out of Stormwind Keep and across town.

She wondered if she should have mentioned that she had forced Datavian to eat in the company of others; Kyle, and two other guards she knew (a woman named Hannah and a younger man named Warrick) had joined her and Datavian at the Pig and Whistle.

At first Datavian had sat silently and ignored everyone, but then Jenna had mentioned that he'd been a prisoner most of his life; then it was her turn to ignore him and the venomous glances he kept shooting at her, and finally he'd been forced to speak as the three other guards began speaking directly to him. She'd made certain to tell everyone there not to badger him, and there hadn't been much more besides simple questions - how did you escape? How long were you a captive? How are you doing now? - before Kyle had started recounting some of his own life.

It was a surprise to see that Datavian had actually listened with interest to Kyle - maybe he really did want to learn something from the man.

"It boils down to this: get up and keep moving, or lay down in the dirt and save yourself some time," Kyle had said finally. "But...ah, you're with Jenna, she'll steer you right."

"Or get you killed," Hannah had added cheerfully. "You wouldn't believe half the things this woman's done."

Jenna had quickly tried squashing the change of subject, but the rest of the meal had revolved around her own combat stories. These conversations Datavian was willing to chime in on, at least...he'd even laughed a few times, especially when the other three began grossly exaggerating adventures Jenna had taken part in.

Thinking about that brought a smile to her face, along with a touch of embarrassment; after all, the exaggerated stories all had a touch of truth in them, somewhere.

The fact remained that Datavian had, after some "coaxing", spoken to people...and, best part of all, had even seemed to be enjoying his evening, there at the end. Hopefully something would come of it after all.

When she finally made it to the Mage Quarter it was mostly deserted; she guessed that the knowledge of six more mages going missing would have made those remaining wary, and she didn't blame them at all.

Datavian opened the door moments after she knocked, and merely stood and looked at her a moment. "...is this a good bye visit then?"

"Not...exactly," she answered.

He stepped aside to allow her to enter. "Are you still guarding me then?"

"No. I begin combat training for Anduin tomorrow, but you're not free of me yet," she chuckled. "King Wrynn has asked me to tell you that, first, when you are done in the library you are done. In his words, you are free to begin building a life for yourself, you have served your sentence."

Datavian's face colored, but he did not comment. He settled into a chair at his table and Jenna sat across from him, the mage intently studying his own hands where they were clasped together in front of him.

"He also wishes for you to instruct me in magic."

He looked up sharply. "You told him that?"

Jenna nodded. "I did. If you don't wish to, you don't have to."

Silence stretched between them for several moments; Datavian returned his gaze to his hands and the silence continued. Finally, feeling more than a little awkward, Jenna stood and moved toward the door.

"I'll inform King Wrynn tomorrow that you do not wish to teach me, it shouldn't be a problem."

She had her hand on the doorknob and was turning it when she heard the scrape of a chair on the floor, and turned to see Datavian standing but leaning forward on the table.

"Jenna, wait. I...would be happy to instruct you."

She smiled at his uneasy look, and shook her head. "If you're sure."

"I am. I would be honored."

She nodded to him. "Okay then. When would you like to begin?"

"...a few evenings from now. Three. That should give me enough time to both finish my work in the library, and decide on a proper path to take in your instruction."

"Three evenings from now, then," she repeated. "I'll see you then."

"Yes...yes, I suppose you shall," he said, smiling weakly.

Jenna opened the door and stepped out into the night, chuckling to herself.

Datavian sank back down into the chair at the table and blew out a shaky sigh.

Once he finished those books he would be free from that stuffy library...and what then? He hadn't thought that far ahead...it had felt as though he'd be trapped in that damned library for ages to come - and perhaps he would have been, had his work pace not been sped up by his returning health which had been only because of Jenna.

Again he would have to be careful not to grow too close to her...why wouldn't the world just let him crawl off somewhere where he wouldn't be a bother or a danger?

"You made it a month in her constant company...being confined to evenings with her should be an easier task," he muttered aloud.

He rubbed a hand over his head, feeling the beginnings of stubble; really, he should find a way to magic hair growth away - even as a child it had been thin and wispy, and he'd finally just shaved it all off one day so he wouldn't have to deal with it...plus, he just looked better bald. He would allow himself that little vanity.

A very, very small part of him welcomed her presence though, if only because she broke up the monotony of his existence. For a moment he thought of their dinner tonight: her guard friends had been...interesting. And their tales meant to embarrass Jenna had been amusing. He had managed to make it through the dinner with minimal conversation, though he had to be honest with himself and admit that it hadn't been that bad of a way to spend his time.

Resting his chin in his palm, he turned to look at his bookcase and peruse the titles; every book here had belonged to Koulson, his mother...thinking of her sent a shiver up his spine, and made his stomach churn. There were very few basic spellbooks, and none here meant for a beginning magic user; Jenna would be starting from the very, very beginning, and being as Koulson had been an accomplished mage she had never owned any meant for basic instruction. She had taught Datavian herself when he was young, he'd never read the beginning books and -

He pulled himself out of that train of thought, as it had too high of a potential to bring up things best left stifled and in a corner of his mind he did not visit.

Standing, Datavian moved into his bedroom and began unfastening his robes. The first thing he would do tomorrow when his day in the library was done would be to seek simple books. He could, in theory, instruct Jenna without them, but he would like to have something for her to read on her own instead of relying fully on him for information.

He let his robes lay where they landed and fell into bed, inhaling slowly as he tried to calm his mind down enough to let sleep come.


	6. Chapter 6

"Watch your feet, always be aware of where you're stepping."

Anduin shuffled his feet to set them more solidly beneath him even as Jenna lunged for him, then feinted and reversed her grip on the wooden practice sword she held in order to bring it swinging in under the boy's guard and clip him in the chin with the tip. His change in his stance allowed him to stay on his feet however, and he even managed to get his own practice weapon halfway into position to block her next attack.

He took her next swing hard, stumbled back, then was sent flying to the ground as Jenna hooked an ankle behind the leg that supported his entire weight and pulled forward.

Anduin's sword went skittering away and Jenna halted, offering a hand to the boy.

"You're getting better. Your handling of the weapon is decent enough, but overall you need a lot of practice."

Anduin allowed her to pull him to his feet. "Lord...Lord Fordragon was instructing me, before he went to Northrend" he said quietly. "I haven't practiced since he went away, there wasn't anyone to practice with."

Jenna smiled gently. "From what I've heard, Lord Fordragon could clean the floor with me. All it takes it practice, something I am here to help you with."

"I have a feeling all I'm going to get is the stuffing beat out of me," Anduin said with a groan. He retrieved his practice sword and walked back to stand in front of her again. "One more time, maybe?"

She chuckled at him. "I think I've bruised you enough for one day. Tomorrow I'll be gauging your skill with axe and mace, and the day after that with the polearm. It is important to be proficient with as many weapons as possible, but what I'd like to do first is find which one seems most comfortable for you to handle and work on that one."

"A wise plan of action. Once one skill is mastered, it is easier to pick up another."

Jenna looked up in surprise to see Varian standing in the doorway, watching them. This was a training area the Stormwind guards frequented, though they were now forbidden to enter it unless invited to when Jenna and Anduin were using it; she hadn't given much thought to the fact that Varian might be curious as to what his son was learning. That could prove...distracting.

As he came into the room Jenna saluted and he nodded in acknowledgement. "How was your first session?"

"She beat the daylights out of me," Anduin replied.

Jenna laughed and ducked her head. "I was going easy on him, I promise, but I'm not one to let an opening go unpunished."

Varian laughed. "Is that so?" He reached out and took the practice sword from Anduin and hefted it, then quickly began to unbuckle his armor.

Jenna watched him, then her eyes widened as she suddenly realized his intent. "..you can't be serious."

Varian nudged his armor out of the way and swung the practice sword experimentally. "And why not? Are you unable to give your king a good fight, Champion?"

Jenna felt her face heating up and knew it'd be bright red by now. "I could, I mean...I'm not comfortable with the idea, but the skill is certainly there, and I...you can't be serious."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I...have you seen what normally happens to those I spar with?" she said uneasily.

Varian grinned at her. "The bruises? The bloodied noses? Yes, I've seen them, and that's why I think you'll give me a good fight. I'm not asking you to kill me, just spar a bit and give me a challenge."

Jenna looked at the wooden sword in her hand, then back up at Varian. "...well, I'm going to need a short sword, and a mace, if that's what you're wanting. Are you positive you want to take your armor off? I could don mine..."

"We won't be attempting to kill one another," Varian repeated with a chuckle. Anduin, at Varian's nod, hurried to the weapon racks and pulled out the requested weapons, handing them over to Jenna silently before retreating to stand against the far wall, watching. Jenna hefted the weapons and blew out a breath, testing their balance - they weren't perfect, but they were close enough to what she was used to that she shouldn't be too handicapped.

"Are you wanting me to give you a good fight, or give you hell?" she asked after a moment.

Varian grinned at her, an almost hungry look, like he relished the idea of a good row. "Give me whatever you've got."

Despite her best efforts Jenna found herself returning the smile. "Very well...Varian."

Varian once again nudged his armor out of the way and then came at her. She blocked his first swing and the follow up and felt her arms already going numb from the force of the blows; she brought her mace and sword up and crossed their shafts, catching the 'blade' of Varian's weapon between them.

"I hope you know what you asked for," she grunted, pushing back as he attempted to bend her backwards.

"I hope you're up to deliver it," he replied.

She twisted her grip and yanked the mace haft down, using the head of the mace to trap Varian's blade against her own, then deftly threw it out to the side. Varian spun to follow the movement and charged at her, slamming his shoulder into her side and nearly sending her toppling from her feet; it definitely blasted all the air out of her and left her in a position where all she could do was defend herself against Varian's powerful blows.

She fell into a rhythm of parrying and blocking, and could see a look of minor annoyance combating with the delighted look on Varian's face; he was trying to find an opening, and she refused to give him one, and he wasn't having any luck trying to batter an opening into existence.

The hilt of her practice blade, under her king's assault, snapped suddenly then; his blade slid the entire length of hers and smashed into her right hand. With a cry she was forced to drop the sword as the fingers on that hand simply ceased responding.

Varian noted the broken weapon and began to back off but Jenna growled and turned herself sideways, adopting a stance that put her left side forward, allowing her to favor the right side and keep the bulk of her body between him and her injured hand. She sensed more than saw Varian's slacking off - he must be assessing her, trying to decide if he'd actually hurt her and if he should end the sparring here.

She decided for him by charging forward with her mace leading. He parried once, twice, then swung at her with a heavy overhand chop; Jenna knew she would never get her weapon back into position in time and so let it drop to the floor.

Varian's eyes widened in surprise when she caught his wrists in her own - she gritted her teeth against the pain of forcing her battered hand to close - and turned, using Varian's momentum to pull him forward and over her shoulder. She was not strong enough, not with an injured hand, to flip him completely over but she managed to lift him from his feet and send him flying sideways to hit the ground on his shoulder, sending him into a roll and disarming him on the way down.

He picked himself up, panting and...laughing? It honestly took her a moment to realize that he was laughing.

"I haven't been thrown in ages...I was not expecting that."

She bent over, cradling her throbbing hand against her chest. "I wasn't expecting a chance to do so."

He dusted himself off as he stood up, his laughter subsiding as he reached out a hand to her. "I did not hurt you badly, did I?"

She let him - with a little thrill rushing through her gut - take her hurt hand and turn it over in his own, strong fingers gently prodding as he checked for broken bone. "It stings, but I think I'll be all right. It's not your fault the weapon broke."

Varian flexed her fingers open and closed, drawing a shaky exhalation of pain out of her. "I will see to it that much more sturdy weapons are available for future use. Do you require a priest for healing, or for the pain?"

"I won't need one, it'll be okay in a few hours." Jenna felt a pang of disappointment as he released her hand, and hid it behind a facade of her own careful examination of her fingers. "Future use?"

"Yes, future use. I haven't enjoyed myself like that in a great while. If you are up to it, I would like to spar every now and then...I can see now why you've bruised and bloodied so many others, and also why you're Stormwind's champion," he added, and Jenna could hear a pride in his voice that sent a smile crawling across her reddening face. "If you are not hurt-"

"-I'm fine, Varian, truly. It just numbed the hand, that's all," she said, slowly opening and closing her hand as he watched. "And I promise I won't end the fight so quickly next time," she added after a moment. "If you want the best that I can give, I'll do it with both hands intact...and hopefully with a weapon that won't break."

He clapped her on the shoulder, then looked over to where his son still stood against the wall. "I believe I have left you in very capable hands, Anduin."

"I'm not sure I want her to give me her best, not like that," Anduin said, looking between the two. "Not yet, anyhow."

Jenna chuckled. "I won't go all out on you until I believe you have a fighting chance, Prince, don't worry."

"I'm more worried about something breaking...like me."

Varian and Jenna chuckled; she watched Varian out of the corner of an eye as he walked over to his son. He was sweating - his shirt was clinging to the small of his back and Jenna imagined the muscle beneath it with a small grin. It was enough to (easily) distract her from the pain in her hand, and it was better than any priest's cure any day in her opinion.

"If that is all for today, you are dismissed. Go ice down that hand if you refuse to see a healer," Varian said firmly.

Jenna nodded. "I will."

"If it is swollen tomorrow, take the day off."

"It'll be fine by tomorrow," Jenna insisted, shaking her head but smiling.

Varian returned the smile briefly, then he and Anduin left; Jenna bent and gathered the broken hilt and practice sword, her discarded mace, and Varian's practice sword, and returned the undamaged weapons to the racks before leaning the broken one against the wall.

Her hand throbbed, badly. She knew nothing was broken but it still hurt; again she distracted herself with playful mental images, relegating the pain to little more than an afterthought in the back of her mind. Being a soldier meant tolerating pain, and this paled in comparison to what it felt like to have a sword embedded in her shin, or a dagger through the hip, or having taken a mace to the shoulder.

Though, she had to admit that it was certainly a lot easier to ice a swollen injury in Northrend than it would be here in Stormwind...

Faintly she could hear the cathedral bells beginning to toll; it was late afternoon, she was hungry, and she would be due at Datavian's for her first magic lesson not too long from now. Orwan would be home today, back from wherever he was visiting due to business, so there would definitely be a cooked meal there...it would be better both in terms of cost and taste than the food she could get at any inn or tavern in town. With a smile she hurried to get home, stomach growling.

* * *

She listened as Datavian talked; he was speaking quietly but simply as he explained how magic was divided into paths, schools, domains, branches. It all began with divine and arcane, then separated into so many different classifications from there it was a wonder any mage could keep anything straight.

Divine was divided into thirteen domains, and four branches, and had descriptors and subschools based on what the spell was meant to do. Arcane had four branches, nine schools, and its own subschools and descriptors based on how the spell was meant to act. Nature magic could be both divine and arcane, and there were also the fel magics (generally considered a darker part of arcane), and the rune magics which were arcane but accessed through natural means...

"-and once you can determine what school a spell follows, you will be able to unravel or counter it," he was saying. "I am no master on nature spells so I will be able to instruct you only in the arcane arts, and where arcane magics are concerned it is the specific school that typically determines how one may combat it."

They were seated at the table in his living room, and the tabletop between them was strewn with open books that he had referenced during his lecture. Jenna smoothed a hand down the page of the book in front of her - one dealing with transmutation - and grinned at him.

"If I only need to worry about schools, why bother explaining the rest of that?"

He smiled, very faintly. "Because should you need to cast a spell, you will need to know subschools and domains to ensure it functions properly."

Jenna blinked at him. "...I wasn't aware you were teaching me how to cast spells."

"If you wish to counter spells, you will need to cast some of your own," he replied.

She noticed then, as she had noticed multiple times during his lecture, that his gaze had fallen upon her injured hand; she had rested it on the table and hadn't given it much thought as she'd listened to him, but it was beginning to go purple and the throbbing was less insistent and more of a burning ache now. He had, throughout his lecture, looked at it several times, and he was looking at it again.

"Training weapon broke," Jenna said finally. He flinched - she must have startled him, or embarrassed him, by noticing - and abruptly his attention went elsewhere. "I suppose it's nice to know my fingers are a bit more sturdy than a wooden sword."

"It looks painful," he said after a moment.

She gently massaged swollen fingers with her good hand. "It hurts, but it's tolerable, definitely nowhere near as bad as some other injuries I've had in the past. I'll wrap it when I get home, though really I should have put ice on it earlier...ice isn't exactly easy to come by here in Stormwind though," she added with a chuckle. "Now were I in Northrend still, you'd be hardpressed to find a place where ice isn't."

He seemed to be trying to supress a smile as he busied himself with closing the open books. After a moment, he sighed and held out a hand. "Give me your hand."

Jenna hesitated a moment before reaching for his hand with her injured one. His fingers closed gently over her swollen ones; he ran the fingers of his other hand up the underside of her arm and in their wake left a chilling sensation. In fact, within a few moments her injured hand from fingertips to her elbow was chilled.

She flexed her stiffening fingers and found the pain was beginning to numb. "...thank you."

"It'll wear off within the hour," he said gruffly. "I suggest you care for it by then."

"Are we finished for the night then?"

Datavian looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "I've been talking to you for over three hours, I'd say that would suffice for a beginning, yes?"

"Three hours? Really?" she repeated. Had it really been that long?

To answer her question the cathedral bells began tolling; three hours had definitely passed, though it was likely closer to four - she couldn't recall exactly when she'd arrived, but it was still surprising to find time had passed so quickly.

She stood. "I guess I'll be going then. When would be a good time to return?"

Datavian began stacking the books in the center of the table. "Whenever, I suppose. It's not as though I have anything better to do."

"Tomorrow evening then?"

"That's fine."

"I shall see you then."

* * *

It had ended up as routine for Jenna to spend every evening with Datavian after having spent the day instructing Anduin. The Prince was progressing well - an eagerness to learn always helped with that - but to her disappointment she had not seen nor sparred with Varian in nearly a month. Her hand had healed, and she rather looked forward to spending any time she could in Varian's presence, but he had been absent and Anduin wasn't certain on the specifics as to why he had not been around.

She hadn't pressed the boy on it, not wanting to give any indication of why she was curious, and had merely focused on her task of teaching Anduin the art of combat. Just a few days ago she had decided to give him a break on sword training and was now working him with polearms and glaives inbetween days of making him throw coal sacks.

And he hated throwing coal sacks...oh how he hated it; Jenna could tell he hated it despite him not telling her outright, but she could easily see the change in his demeanor - going from attentive and eager to sluggish and moody - every time she pulled the sacks out. There were twenty in all, all of various sizes and weights, and along with them she had commandeered wooden hoops so Anduin would have targets to throw at. He was still working on building the muscle needed to heft the coal sacks and so rarely managed to land a sack within a target, but he was slowly improving each time Jenna ran him through the exercises.

Today had been a coal sack day, followed by a live weapon exercise - Jenna had, for the first time, handed Anduin a real sword and instructed him to spar with her. She too had her own weapon, but she'd remained on the defensive; she was wearing her armor and allowed some of the boy's blows to land, meaning to get him used to what an armored opponent would be like. It was interesting how she could see the learning going on behind his gaze: every glancing blow off a gauntlet, every thrust that threatened to catch on the platemail, every attack that jarred his arms, he was noting and remembering.

Jenna did make certain to constantly remind him that she was an opponent that was not fighting back and that at some point she would be actively sparring with him as she did with his father. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea, but she assured him he would be ready when the time came.

That had been only minutes before; right now she was nearly at Datavian's door and was currently questioning the wisdom of showing up fully armored for her magic lesson. Sitting and listening, or reading, was sometimes enough to make her stiff and sore in regular civilian attire...now that she was thinking about it, the idea of sitting for several hours in her armor was enough to make Jenna mentally groan.

It was foolish, really, as she'd spent far more time in her armor than out of it...but there was just something about the idea of being out of her armor and being comfortable, being civilian, that appealed to her today. In fact, Jenna felt a sudden compulsion to turn around and head back home, change her clothing, eat dinner, maybe even skip her lesson altogether tonight. It was strong enough that she physically paused, hand raised and poised to knock on Datavian's door.

She should head home, freshen up, leave the Mage Quarter.

But it wouldn't be polite -

She was hungry, and tired too. Exhaustion made learning difficult, she should just go home.

True, she was hungry, but not exactly tired -

Really...one evening to herself? That wasn't too much to ask for, and surely her mage friend would understand.

Mage friend...?

With great effort, Jenna slammed a gauntleted fist onto the door. Something was wrong.

Before her hand had even really connected with the door, however, it was opening; Datavian stood framed in the doorway, a look on his face that was a cross between anger and terror. His hands shot out and gripped her on either side of her face, and she felt a tingling pulse of magic strike her temples; immediately it felt as though a veil had been lifted off her mind, and her instincts were screaming at her to take cover and figure out what was going on.

Jenna lunged forward and tackled Datavian around the waist, taking them both down to the floor and unknowingly saving them both as something crackled by overhead and shattered the bookcase on the far wall.

From outside there was a sudden shout, followed by screams and a flurry of movement. Jenna rolled off Datavian and looked out the door to see what appeared to be a solid wall of blue dragonscale - a dragon? Here in Stormwind?

Her view of dragonhide was obstructed then, as a blue wyrmkin then filled the doorway with its bulk; it was heavily armored and wasted no time in bringing its trident to bear, spearing downward.

Datavian shouted, in pain or in alarm, and was then roughly dragged toward the wyrmkin; Jenna leapt forward and grabbed his arms, her gaze traveling down his body until she registered that he'd been speared in the calf and was being hauled out of his home by his injured leg.

With a single sudden heave Datavian was torn out of her grasp and slung over the wyrmkin's shoulder, out of sight outside. Jenna staggered to her feet, hand going for the sword still on her back. The wyrmkin was turning away from her as she approached, and she found herself unchallenged as she buried her blade into its head, sinking it deep into the skull between the eyesocket and the snout.

She leapt the corpse as it tumbled to the floor and pushed outside to find total chaos. Mages were spilling from the tower and from the buildings, there were wyrmkin everywhere in addition to spellcasters that were no doubt allied with the blue dragonflight, and there was a single blue dragon with them, now perched precariously on top of the archway that led into the Mage Quarter. The blues had staged an attack on Stormwind itself.

Those mages that were not engaged in fighting the wyrmkin were in one of two situations, either helping shield bystanders caught in the attack, or incapacitated on the ground. There were brilliant purple cubes forming around the ones laying senseless on the ground, directed by the wyrmkin that were casters themselves, and as Jenna watched one cube formed and encased a woman inside a cage; wyrmkin and cage then disappeared.

Jenna hefted her sword and ran into the fight, pausing only to haul a frightened mage - barely a boy at that - to his feet and shove him toward the relative safety of another group of his kind nearby.

Where was Datavian?

After dispatching several wyrmkin, over the din of the battle she heard two things. The first was the clarion call of a guard's horn, signaling for help. The second was Datavian's voice, casting from somewhere nearby. She focused on his voice and threaded her way through the fighting, grimacing as fiery spells came far too close for comfort as both enemy and ally missed their targets and sent magic flying dangerously in all directions.

She spied him finally, laying on the ground and to all appearances simultaneously holding back six wyrmkin and a female blood elf caster while keeping another of those arcane cages from closing in around him; the walls of the cage pulsed and were slowly inching closer, no doubt due to the split in his attention span as he fought to drive off his attackers and prevent his own capture. There was a long smear of blood on the grass beneath him - had he tried to drag himself away? - and from where she stood Jenna could see the stab wound, made worse by the fact the wyrmkin had used the trident to fling him, bleeding profusely.

Jenna grabbed one of the maces on her belt and threw it, then rushed in behind it.

The mace definitely drew the attention of those surrounding Datavian; it struck the back of the blood elf's head and crushed it, sending blood and brain matter into the air in a spray that spattered against the clustered wyrmkin, and Jenna was right behind the weapon, shoving the body aside and leading with her sword to impale the closest wyrmkin - a caster - in its forward leg joint.

She tore her weapon free and brought it around in an upward chop, severing one of the impaled wyrmkin's hands and causing the materializing cage to abruptly disappear; a grunt from behind her caused her to instinctively duck, and a trident whistled by overhead. Jenna turned her ducking into a roll and came up in a crouching position, straddling an ashen-faced Datavian who looked at her as though she were insane.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving your hide," she grunted, raising her sword to swat aside another thrust from a trident. "Can you handle those casters?"

He swallowed, his expression pained, but nodded and reached around her to send a barrage of purple missiles of light at the nearest. Jenna stood up but remained standing over Datavian, pulling her remaining mace off her belt and spinning it once in her hand.

The wyrmkin she'd taken a hand off of had disappeared - retreated, most likely - and a human mage had taken its place. He was dressed in robes of pure blue, and was readying a spell that came from...arcane conjuration school, with a frost elemental descriptor. Jenna almost smiled as she quickly blurted out a counter and watched the man's face twist in confusion as his spell fizzled in his hands. She had no idea what she'd just foiled, and she'd rather not find out; her mace came forward and caught him under the chin hard enough that she heard the click of the teeth, and as he fell senseless to the ground she knew that he, at least, wouldn't be a further problem.

Jenna, turning to the wyrmkin now, quickly brought her sword up and caught a trident in the tines, straining as the wyrmkin tried using its considerable strength to shove her backward; she instead pivoted and brought her leg up to slam the toe of her boot into its side. It floundered, offbalance, and Jenna gouged a deep furrow in its gut with her sword, followed up by a bone-shattering blow to its main weapon arm.

Datavian beneath her quickly pulled his uninjured leg out of the way as the wyrmkin fell and narrowly missed his injured one. He had dispatched two of the remaining wyrmkin casters and the others were pausing in their attack, conferring among one another in their own tongue.

Jenna dropped down and, dropping her sword, seized Datavian by the arm and helped him to his feet.

"Can you get yourself out of here?" she asked, keeping hold of him as she backed them away from the clustered wyrmkin.

"What?"

"Can you get yourself to safety?" she grunted, more or less shoving him behind her as their attackers began to slowly advance, their conferring done.

Beyond them Jenna could see the fight had moved away from the mage tower and down toward the canals; she could hear the shouts of Guard Captains giving orders - the forces of Stormwind's militia had arrived. There were a few clustered groups of mages fighting the remaining wyrmkin and their allies, but the bulk of the battle had left their immediate area as those wyrmkin tasked with the capturing of mages had taken their prizes and fled. If Datavian ran for it he'd -

"I can't leave you here," he said suddenly.

Jenna snorted. "I've fought worse than overgrow newts. Go. Get out of here. It's not me they're after."

"It's my fault you're here, I won't leave you behind."

"Now is hardly the time to be noble," she growled, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Run, now, before-"

At that exact moment she then remembered seeing a full-grown dragon, as at that exact moment that full-grown dragon's tail came swinging in from just beyond her periphereal vision to slam into them both and send both careening into the solid stone wall of a shop clear across the open courtyard.

Jenna hit so hard she tasted blood and an explosion of light filled her vision, but she forced herself to stagger to her feet while blinking to try and regain her sight. Dimly she could see - and feel the backdraft from wings - as the dragon settled heavily into the courtyard, raising itself up to its full height and glaring down at her.

"It would have been worth your while to return to your home, for now you die," it bellowed at her.

Jenna thought back to the strange befuddlement from earlier, and bristled. Glancing around she spied Datavian just to her left, slumped against the wall and out cold. She took a step in his direction and found herself flying across the courtyard again, the dragon having batted her like a cat would a mouse.

She hit and rolled along the ground until she rammed up against a lightpost, numbly attempting to get back to her feet; a huge blue claw slammed into her back, then a talon casually rolled her onto her back before the entire claw settled over her.

At some point she had lost her weapon, either in her collision with the shop's outer wall or in her flight to the lampost, but it didn't keep her from groping about around her in the hopes that it would be nearby. The claw pinning her to the ground shoved down in one quick jab, blasting the air out of her so that she couldn't even cry out in pain.

It shoved down again, and once again, and Jenna felt things cracking inside her innards. It shoved down once more time, then began to apply a steady pressure.

Something wet and cold squished up around her head and neck, but the pressure pressing down reduced somewhat; desperately Jenna pounded on the claw holding her down as whatever was rising up around her came up high enough to cover her face, filling her nose and mouth and blinding her as she was forced to quickly close her eyes with her last glimpse of the waking world being a blue dragon claw that, oddly enough, had a crack in one of the talons.

* * *

Jenna awoke somewhere that wasn't beneath a dragon and with her nose, mouth, and eyes clear. Only a small flickering near her head, probably a candle - met her vision as she slowly peeled her eyes open.

She hurt, but it paled in comparison to how she remembered feeling only moments ago...it had been moments ago, hadn't it? There at least wasn't anything trying to suffocate her now.

She lay on her back, though her head was tilted to the right. Her mouth tasted sour, and she recalled vomiting once...and a candle swam fully into view. Where was she?

No. Damn where she was, where was Datavian?

Slowly being crushed by a dragon was coming back to her now...she'd been in the Mage Quarter, the dragons had attacked, and the big drake had been crushing her to death, and something had tried to drown her. Datavian had been knocked out after having collided with a stone wall...where was he?

A surge of fear hit her stomach as the image of an arcane cage closing around a mage came to mind.

Very, very carefully, Jenna inched her fingers down her sides and knotted them in what felt like soft linen bedsheets. She didn't want to believe it, but there was only one outcome to what had happened in the Mage Quarter...Datavian was gone. He had to be.

She used her grip on the linens beneath to her try and pull herself down on the pillow beneath her head - she was laying far too high on it - but every muscle from the base of her neck to her hips protested the simple movement, and she let out an involuntary hiss of pain.

At her hiss, there was movement at the foot of the bed.

Jenna stared down the length of her nose and saw a man standing there in the dim light, half in shadows.

"...Datavian?"

Whomever it was stepped around the foot of the bed and came up to her bedside, and in the light she could see it was Datavian's face, but...younger, and framed in long black hair.

"No," the man said quietly. "My name is Mikael, I'm his younger brother."

"You look like him," she whispered after a moment.

He smiled faintly at her. "And he looks like a younger version of my father. If age did not separate us we could pass as the same man...I am told all males in my family greatly resembled one another."

Jenna forced her hands to release the linens. "Where...where is he?"

Mikael's face was carefully neutral. "What do you last remember?"

"...I was being crushed under a dragon. Datavian had been knocked unconscious. Where is he?"

Mikael walked back to the foot of the bed and disappeared out of the ring of light cast by the candle, but he returned moments later with a wooden stool in hand. He returned to the bedside and settled on the stool, gazing down at her still wearing that neutral expression.

"The blue dragonflight staged an attack on Stormwind's mages...a dozen were taken, including Datavian," he said finally. "I'm told by those who witnessed it all that you fought to defend him. Thank you."

She grimaced. "Don't, please."

"Don't what?"

"Thank me. I failed...he was taken anyway. If...if he had only run when I had told him to," she added after a moment.

Mikael looked at her questioningly, and after she remained silent he inhaled deeply. "You told him to run? And he didn't?"

"Yes, to both."

"Why?"

Jenna felt a burning behind her eyes. "He said he wouldn't leave me there, the idiot. He had a hole in his leg and was bleeding all over the place, and was being hunted by blue dragons, and yet he couldn't leave me."

She turned her head away from him, blinking back tears; she was upset and so angry now that she knew for a fact that Datavian was gone. She'd once told him she'd protect him...and she'd failed miserably. It didn't matter that she was no longer his guardian - had an attack happened while he was her charge, she would have failed.

For several moments she blinked and quietly sniffled, seething and also amazed at the depth of anger that had hit her...not only was she angry at the blue dragons, but to her surprise a part of her anger was directed at Varian, anger stemming from the previous thought of her most likely failing had the dragon attact happened when she'd been named Datavian's guard.

How could Varian have so grossly overestimated her fighting prowess? How could he have believed she would be capable to handle such a situation?

And how could she have been so stupid as to believe him?

"It surprises me..."

"What does?" she asked bitterly, having almost forgotten that Datavian's brother was even in the room - WHY was he in her room anyhow? And where was she?

"That'd he'd chose to remain with you. How did you come to know him?"

"I was...he was teaching me magic," she amended abruptly, as thinking about her 'guardianship' of him only brought another stab of anger on.

He let out a quiet sound of amusement. "I'm surprised...no, I'm amazed. He was never comfortable around others when I brought him back home. He'd talk to me and our father, and my wife, but he never wanted to interact with anyone else unless he had to."

Jenna snorted. "He had to, with me. I didn't give him a choice."

"That may be so, but he should have - no, he would have - found some way to be rid of you as soon as possible...if he held to his usual behavior, that is." Mikael was looking at her, thoughtfully. "I wonder what made him change his mind."

"We are not romantically involved, if that's what you're thinking," Jenna snapped. She again knotted her fingers into the linens and this time grit her teeth to push passed the pain, and began to slowly sit up. "He is someone I consider a friend, even if he doesn't think the same of me," she growled through her teeth.

Tears of pain and anger were flooding her eyes and threatening to spill down her cheeks, and Mikael stirred at her bedside uneasily.

"I really don't think you should be trying to-"

Jenna grunted, squeezed her eyes shut, and with one last heave pulled herself upright in the bed. A light blanket had been thrown over her and now it pooled in her lap - a good thing, as in sitting up she discovered she was in a short nightshirt that barely came to mid-thigh. Datavian's brother beside her reached out, possibly to try and either help or hinder her, but she shakily swatted away the hands and sat there a moment, hunched over and shaking.

Her midsection was on fire, or so it seemed; moving hurt, breathing hurt, and her efforts to get upright had her soaking her nightshirt in a cold sweat, her entire body trembling. There was a memory here of something inside snapping, probably a trauma-memory of breaking ribs as the dragon had crushed her, but she didn't feel as though she had broken ribs...not that she'd really know what those felt like, but Jenna imagined that if a rib were broken the pain would be centered there. The pain she was experiencing now was a sort of all-over pain, and not a stabbing pain like a broken bone ought to be - she had once broken her leg, and so knew rather well the pain of such of a thing.

It felt more like she'd taken a kick to the gut from a pack mule, everything hurt.

She swallowed slowly, mouth soured and entirely too dry, and she now focused on the monumental task of swinging her legs to the edge of the bed.

Again Mikael reached for her, this time succeeding in grasping her shoulders as her hands were currently scooting her closer to the edge of the bed she lay in. He was up and off his stool, standing in front of her and in the way.

"Lay back down, please."

"Either help me up or get me a flask of firebloom whiskey," Jenna growled. "I'm getting out of this bed. Move."

After a tense moment - he stared, she glared - he let go and quickly walked away, going to a door (unseen in the darkness) and leaving. Jenna mentally marked where the door had been, and inhaled deeply as she gingerly swung her legs free of the light blanket and felt her toes brush across the stone floor below.

'Halfway there,' she thought, smiling weakly. Moving was easier, the more she did, which was a good thing but also made her unusually cautious - she may not feel broken now, but pulling something right now wouldn't be the best of ideas. Best to just take it easy, take it slow...

She stuck her hands beneath her rear end and used the strength in her wrists to slide herself further to the edge, pausing when both feet were flat on the floor to look around. There weren't any windows she could see, and she knew the door was about ten steps away from the foot of the bed. There was the stool Mikael had abandoned there near her feet, and a small table with the candle in a pewter holder, and her bed...and that was it, so it seemed. Maybe a small room inside the cathedral?

She rubbed sweaty hands up and down arms dripping in sweat - all of her was trembling now, but damn it all she was determined to make it to that unseen door.

More to stall for time briefly than out of any real need for light, Jenna carefully slid the candle in its holder off the table and held it, raising it to throw the circle of light further into the room to see it was as empty as she'd first thought. With her fingers firmly wrapped around the candle, she eased her weight onto her feet.

It wasn't nearly so terrible as she was expecting. She was building a tolerance to the agony, or it was just easier to stand than it was to sit, though she found that leaning forward eased her breathing some. Now that she was actively moving, it felt more like she was covered in bruises...bruises with bruises with bruises, but still nothing more major than that.

She was now standing...and now for that door...

Ten steps became closer to twenty as Jenna took mincing, careful steps, toward a door she could only just make out until she was nearly on top of it. Just as she closed her hand on the doorknob, however, the door opened and for a moment she was blinded by the sudden change in light.

The room beyond the door was well lit by torches along the wall, along with candles in chandeliers hanging from the ceiling; it was decorated simply but comfortably, with heavily padded carved wooden seats pushed in around an ornate wooden table. The table was covered with what Jenna recognized as a map of Northrend - it was a large map, as the table itself seated twelve people and the map stretched from end to end...and there also happened to be twelve people seated.

She blinked in the light, leaning against the doorframe for support, the one who had opened the door remaining out of sight, as she took in the scene.

At the head of the table, directly across from her, sat Varian Wrynn. His fingers were steepled, his chin resting on them and his elbows on the table, but his head lifted when it registered in his mind what he was looking at. She watched as his expression went from one of certain sternness to one of faint disbelief, and she was acutely aware that she was barely dressed.

To Varian's left sat a slender, blonde-haired elf with pale skin dressed in robes that were painfully bright blue. To Varian's right a blue-haired human sat, dressed simply in leather pants with a matching vest over a plain white linen shirt.

The rest of the seats were full of people Jenna did not at first recognize, though she imagined some of them to be priests and paladins judging by their appearances. All were turning in their seats to look at her with similar looks of surprise.

"What are you doing up?" Varian snapped suddenly, his disbelieving look now one bordering on anger.

"Where's my armor?" Jenna asked in response.

Varian stood up, leaning on the table in front of him. "I asked you a question. Why are you out of bed?"

"Because I'm going north to hunt a blue dragon."

The elf and the blue-haired man on either side of Varian shifted, the elf chuckling into his hand quietly.

Varian pressed his lips together, looking exasperated. "Get back into that bed, you're in no shape to be up and moving around - nor are you really dressed for it," he added, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her.

Jenna flushed bright red, and used her free hand to tug her nightdress down as far as it would go. "With all due respect, I can't be held responsible for my king deciding to hold a meeting outside of the room I was shoved in." Varian's lips twitched into a smile briefly, and she shuffled back a few steps to somewhat hide herself against the doorframe. "What's going on? And why do I feel like I was run over by a wagon?"

The blue-haired human stood, nodding at Varian who in turn nodded back, and the blue-haired man took that as permission to speak. "My lady, I am Kalecgos of the blue dragonflight. I-"

Jenna stumbled back around the doorway, glaring at him. "A blue dragon? Here? After what just happened?"

Kalecgos smiled faintly at her. "Yes. It is not the best of circumstances - Malygos, as you know, has been slain. I have been attempting to bring the flight under my control."

"Seems you failed," Jenna said dryly.

The blonde elf laughed, looking up at Varian. "I like her."

Varian gave him a sour look, which he turned on Jenna moment later. "She's honest, which is why I value her, though in this case I wish she would mind her manners."

"No offense taken, King Wrynn," Kalecgos said with a chuckle. "In her position, she has a reason to be angered."

'That's putting it mildly,' Jenna thought to herself wryly.

"The blue dragonflight obeyed Malygos's orders of capturing, interrogating, and either converting or exterminating magic users," Kalecgos went on. "Many of us, myself included, disagreed with the practice...though a small portion of our flight wholly believed in Malygos's actions, believed that the only way to save the mortal races from themselves would be to retake all magic and prevent others from using it. The ones who believed his words are the ones who continue to still capture mages, and are the ones that refuse to follow my orders."

"A rogue faction within the flight?" Jenna asked. Kalecgos nodded. "Do you have a plan to stop them?"

"We have an idea," the blonde elf spoke up. "Tell me...when you were being crushed into that mud puddle - which was me, by the way, sorry for nearly drowning you but I figured the risk outweighed the consequences of inaction - did you notice anything about the dragon doing it? He disappeared before we got a good look at him, good enough to identify him anyway."

"Why?"

Kalecgos settled back into his seat. "There is a single drake commanding those loyal to Malygos, but we are not certain who it is. He or she may be moving within the flight and undermining my authority, and while we do not believe the leader would show their face during a raid, if you can help us identify the drakes that were here we may be able to-"

"Wait, drakes?" Jenna interrupted. "As in, more than one? There was only one dragon here today-"

"-yesterday," Varian corrected.

"-yesterday," Jenna repeated, mentally surprised that she'd been out so long and suffering a fresh wave of terror concerning Datavian's wellbeing.

Kalecgos smiled grimly. "One of them was here in a mortal guise...but she is no longer a threat."

Jenna did not miss the stressing of "she" and suddenly felt her stomach do a loop. "...let me guess, a female blood elf?"

"High elf, actually, but a common mistake to make," the blonde elf answered.

"We do not hold anything against you for defending yourself and others," Kalecgos said firmly. "She made her own choice. Do not think we want retribution for her death...but the male that accompanied her, and nearly killed you, will no doubt seek revenge for the death of his mate."

Jenna sighed heavily. "Wonderful news."

There was a brief lapse in conversation, and Jenna eyed the others at the table in the lull; she recognized now Duthorian Rall, High Priestess Laurena, the paladin Grayson Shadowbreaker, along with General Marcus Jonathan and Major Mattingly. The rest were all men and women she knew by sight but not by name.

Against the wall, seated in low chairs, were Mikael and...a blood elf, of all things, and heavily pregnant. Mikael nodded at her briefly, his hands clasping that of the elf's; was this his wife, then?

"We wish to make use of you, Lady Townguard."

Jenna looked back to the dragon-in-human-form. "I'm going north to find Datavian."

Kalecgos nodded. "What we have in mind requires you to do so - the remnants of Malygos's followers have fortified themselves inside the Coldarra, and on a small patch of land near Amber Ledge. There is a small force of red and bronze drakes that will meet with us over Amber Ledge - the reds have always been outraged at the needless deaths of mortals, and the bronzes are angered that the blues meddled with a time field in their raid upon your town."

"When we reach Amber Ledge we will capture, or kill if neccessary, the rogue forces there, and then move on to the Coldarra," the blonde elf - probably a dragon as well - chimed in. "What we want, however, is your presence."

"Why?"

"We cannot be certain that the mate of the female you killed is the true leader of this rogue faction," Kalecgos said, shooting the blonde elf a warning look. "If it is known that you are with our forces, he will make his appearance to exact his vengeance - it will be one less drake we will have to deal with at the Coldarra, and if he IS the leader then bringing him to us that much quicker is an advantage."

"I do not like this," Varian interrupted, scowling. "I do not like the idea of purposely placing Jenna in such a situation. She was nearly killed yesterday."

Jenna swallowed, both pleased that he cared and again angry at him.

Kalecgos nodded. "Yes, that is true. However, she won't be taken by surprise this time." He looked over at her again, a smile on his face. "If my assumptions about her are correct, however, she will be traveling north to seek her friend with or without our help. At least if she agrees to come with us, she will have the support of my drakes and will not be ambushed while we in turn will find our job of curtailing the rogue faction to be much easier with her assistance."

"It is up to her, though I am greatly against this," Varian said darkly.

Everyone present looked back at her, and Jenna swallowed again.

She wouldn't stand a chance against a dragon, ambushed or not, and Varian's disapproval was enough to make her pause. She did not want to go against the wishes of her king...but with the help of Kalecgos's dragons, she could possibly find and save Datavian before it was too late.

She'd failed him once...she couldn't fail him again.

"...get me some armor, a priest, and a flask of whiskey," she said finally. "We've got some dragons to hunt."


	7. Chapter 7

"Is it wise to be inebriated for this?"

Jenna blinked rapidly as her mouth burned and her head instantly swam as the firebloom whiskey singed a hot line down her throat and hit her stomach like a pile of rocks. "I'm not...not getting drunk," she coughed. "Firebloom whiskey isn't meant for drinking regularly, it's a dwarven pain killer." Eyes watering, she blinked up at Kalecgos and screwed the stopper back onto the flask she held. "It'll hit you like a mule kick, dulls your nerves to pain and sharpens your other senses for a short while. Afterwards, you'll have a hangover from hell."

"Sounds like it isn't worth the risk," the blue dragon said dryly, one eyebrow raising as he stared pointedly at the bottle.

Jenna thumped a fist against her ribs, wincing slightly. "The priests did what they could to put me back in one piece but I'm going to be sore still, I don't need an involuntary wince or muscle spasm at the wrong time, it could get me killed."

Kalecgos nodded silently, and looked elsewhere. They stood in the open courtyard of the public garden within Stormwind Keep, and Jenna was acutely aware of Varian's steady gaze on her back - he was vehemently against her leaving now, after having heard Kalecgos's plan, but he had ultimately admitted that he could not in good conscience stop her from going to rescue Datavian...still, his attention on her both made her nervous and a little flattered.

The blonde-haired elf, that was actually a dragon in disguise, strolled up to them then from where he'd been standing and conversing with the king. "Everything is in order, it would seem."

"Then let us depart, the quicker we move the better chance we'll have of retrieving those kidnapped mages alive."

"What's going to stop them from k-killing them when they know we're coming?" Jenna asked quietly.

Kalecgos smiled grimly. "Knowledge. Our kind is obsessed with obtaining and retaining knowledge. Even the smallest inkling of something unknown will be enough to cause the rogue dragons to pause in their extermination efforts - it will take time, but those mages will be put through a lengthy interrogation process, if they do not side with the dragons, before they are put to death."

"We should be going, we've a long trip ahead of us," the blonde interrupted.

"A long trip?" Jenna repeated.

Kalecgos nodded. "Yes. To avoid giving them too much of an advantage, rather than magically move ourselves there through teleportation, we'll be flying in over the sea."

Jenna frowned. "I don't think I'm dressed for that," she growled, gesturing at her plate armor - full plate this time, not her platemail. She felt five times heavier than normal and would be better protected against attacks, but...due to the weight and its constricting nature, she wasn't comfortably able to wear much in the way of clothing underneath it all. Jenna had on some padding but little else, and the idea of those cold northern winds freezing her armor to her bare skin was not a pleasant one.

"No worries," the blonde dragon said, waving a hand idly. "We've taken care of that. But we really should be going."

"Indeed," Kalecgos agreed. With that, he bent his legs and then leapt impossibly high into the air; Jenna craned her neck, watching in amazement as he cleared the walls and roof of the keep before his form quickly changed from that of a man to that of a large blue dragon.

She turned her attention to the blonde dragon, eyes narrowing as she noted his outstretched hand. "Oh, surely not."

"Oh, no, nothing so impressive. Merely a levitation up," he insisted.

Jenna, with a few misgivings, reached out to allow him to take her by the hand, but suddenly there was a rush of footsteps.

"Townguard, wait!"

Jenna spun, hand instinctively seeking her weapon, and was surprised to see Mikael Sullivan rushing up the hallway that led into the garden. He skidded some on the slightly dampened grass underfoot, then came to a complete stop before her, breathing slightly hard from his run, hands clutching a sheathed weapon - a sword, from the looks of it.

"What's wrong?" she asked after a moment.

For a few breaths he just licked his lips, looking at her, then he thrust the weapon he held out at her. "Here, take this."

"What? Why?"

He shoved the sheathed sword into her hands. "Take it. This is a sword, first forged by my parents then restored by blood elves. It is called Spellcleaver, and it's very powerful...I don't dare come with you and leave my wife unguarded - she too is a mage, and near to her time to have our first child. I can't come with you...but I can give you this weapon that's been at my side most of my life, in the hopes that you can use it to bring my brother safely back home."

Jenna tried to hand it back, only to have it shoved once more at her. "I have my own sword, I don't need yours-"

"Can your sword deflect magical attacks? Can it sever enchantments? Is it sharp enough to cut through wood and metal alike?" Mikael asked angrily. "Can it act as a spell focus?"

"No," Jenna replied, eyes narrowing. "It's just a sword."

"And that's why you should take Spellcleaver," Mikael insisted, shoving it back into her hands and forcing her fingers to close around it. "This weapon has saved my life more times than I care to count...if I can't come with you, at least allow this little bit of me to help you in saving my brother."

Jenna stared down at the sword - Spellcleaver's rubied hilt glinted at her in the light, and she thought she detected a faint red glow emanating from it - and then she looked up at him again. "He really means a lot to you, doesn't he."

"When we were younger, before he was...before everything happened, we were very close. I would be willing to do anything for him, but...I can't go save him this time, not when it's my wife and my unborn child that are possibly in danger, and I know he'd never forgive himself if I did and something did happen to them," Mikael said quietly. "And even if my wife and child weren't in danger, I'd be of no use to you. I cannot use magic, at all – I have been willingly sealed off from all forms, schools, all magic entirely. I would not be of any use against blue dragons... Take Spellcleaver. It's the only way I can help you bring him home."

Jenna quickly stripped the shield from her back, and undid the clasps that held her sword to her back, sliding the sheath free and threading Spellcleaver's sheath onto the straps in its place before snapping the clasps back together and then replacing her shield. Mikael swallowed visibly, then nodded to her, his face pale, as he took several steps back.

She nodded back to him, then turned back to the blonde elf - dragon - that had stood there silently the entire exchange. Again, she reached out and this time he gently took her hand.

"Off we go then," the dragon said cheerfully.

They levitated up into the air with Jenna trying not to be unnerved as she watched the forms of Mikael Sullivan, along with that of Varian Wrynn and his retainers, shrink in relative size as they flew higher into the air.

Without warning the dragon spun her in close, as though they were dancing in a ballroom versus levitating sixty feet off the ground; the spin he placed her in threw her up and around to his back, Jenna scrambling to get a hand hold as his form too expanded outward into a dragon. He hung in place, his wings beating to keep them aloft, as Jenna crawled her way up to seat herself just in front of his wing joints and then he lunged into motion, moving to follow the faint shape of Kalecgos in the distance.

Jenna peered carefully over his side as Stormwind rapidly moved out of view, then settled herself in close to the dragon's hide.

"It will not take long to cross the sea," the dragon called over his shoulder to her. "You won't be on my back long enough to get cold."

"Do you have a name?" she shouted back.

"Sort of. Are you asking for my dragon name, or for the name I use when in a mortal guise?"

"Just give me something to call you."

"Marecgos, though I go by Marcus when I take my mortal form."

Jenna didn't reply, just leaned in to avoid the worst of the wind.

Soon enough the only thing beneath them was water, which stretched out in all directions as far as Jenna could see. They flew on silently for a long time, then there were shapes appearing in the clouds around them, dropping down to match their speed and altitude.

Within moments they had an escort of blue dragons; Kalecgos was still a good distance ahead of them, but their escort stretched from him back to Jenna and Marecgos - she couldn't be certain on numbers, but there had to be at least fifty drakes of various sizes flying with them now.

One dragon suddenly darted in close, close enough that Jenna ducked, but instead of the collision she was expecting she instead felt a much lighter thump behind her, and turned to see that the dragon had rapidly shrank into a mortal form - that of another blood elf, if she was correctly guessing the race of the face that was hidden by the cowl of a heavy hood.

"Greetings."

"Uh, hello," Jenna replied, staring at him warily from over her shoulder.

A slim hand reached up and pulled the cowl down lower to secure it against the wind. "I wanted to meet with you before we arrived at Amber Ledge. You may call me Avlen, and I know your mage friend well...I was directly responsible for his survival when all was said and done in those events of which you're aware of by now, no doubt."

"You were what?"

Avlen shifted, kneeling easily on Marecgos's back despite the push of the wind. "When the woman Daranara was killed, her connection to the male Datavian threatened to end his life. We - his brother, and I - discovered many things in that instant, one of which was that Datavian would have died if not for our intervention: I guided his younger brother in repairing the man's fragmented soul, which ultimately kept him alive."

"I see, I think," Jenna said after a moment. "Why did you want to meet me?"

"I have been quietly keeping an eye on him, as I made a promise to warn him should the blue dragonflight ever target him-"

"-it would seem you failed on that," Jenna interrupted.

"Yes, and no. I informed his brother that I would warn them if my flight targeted him specifically, but in this case he was simply in the wrong place at precisely the wrong time, but that is neither here nor there. I have noticed you, mortal, because you persist in keeping him company, and I was curious as to why. I have watched him long enough to know that he does not seek the company of others, and I wished to see what would have caused him to continue to remain around you."

"At first, I was ordered to protect him," Jenna replied. "He claimed something was stalking him...though, if you were watching him this entire time, perhaps it was you he was aware of."

Avlen shrugged. "It is possible, though not likely."

"Anyway. After I was removed as his guardian, he was then instructing me in basic magic to help me in combat situations."

"So you were companions of out neccessity."

Jenna thought a moment, then blew out a sigh. "I suppose so. I consider him a friend, though I can't be certain he returns the sentiment."

"He is not an easy man to understand," Avlen agreed. "The guilt of his past still haunts him. I believe he can still move beyond it - in fact, I believe he is trying. His behavior as of late has hinted at that, foremost being his acceptance of your presence."

"What exactly do you want of me?" Jenna interrupted. "I don't have the patience to listen to you wax philosophical."

Avlen chuckled behind his cowl. "Forgive me then. What I want of you is to retrieve this human and get him back where he belongs...no creature, mortal or otherwise, deserves to be put through such a rough existence."

"Well, I all ready plan to do that," Jenna sighed. "I'm going to get him back, even if I have to hack my way through an army of your flight."

"You may very well have to do that," Avlen said gravely. "It is unfortunate to think of, but any dragons unwilling to give up on Malygos' ideals of murdering mortals may have to be destroyed...we cannot afford, nor tolerate, to have them running around the world loose and causing death and chaos."

Jenna shifted, turning back around to face forward. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to get Datavian back, you have my promise on that."

She felt and heard Avlen leap from Marecgos's back, then witnessed the sight of him flying back to fall in with the 'escort' that surrounded them. Now that she was again essentially alone, she found herself thinking about the task ahead of her.

Kalecgos wished to first assault the blue dragons that had set up camp just beyond Amber Ledge - a great deal of those arcane cages had been noticed, and while they couldn't be certain if living beings inhabited them, it was still a starting point in their effort to either bring the rogue dragons back under control, or kill them. It was a sad thing to contemplate - the blue flight had been decimated by Deathwing, and were only just now slowly recovering in number - but Avlen was correct when he said that the rogues could not be permitted to freely kill mortals in the name of an Aspect that was now dead.

During the fight at Amber Ledge, Kalecgos planned to make clear the fact that Jenna, the slayer of a blue dragon's mate, was among their forces. He would allow some drakes to escape to carry the word back to Coldarra, then the rest of their forces would continue on and clash with the rogue blues there.

It would be Jenna's job to, with the help of some wyrmkin, infiltrate the Nexus and locate the kidnapped mages. Most important to her was locating Datavian, but she didn't feel she could trust the liberation of the other mages to just the wyrmkin alone...so, as much as she would like to simply search for him alone, she would have to divert her efforts and attention to freeing any imprisoned mages she may come across.

Some time later the sea gave way to a mist, and then to land. She recognized the faint shape of Valiance Keep far beneath them, and then they were out over the Borean Tundra and moving at a more rapid pace. Finally, an elevated plateau of sorts appeared and this Marecgos angled toward, nimbly zipping in between and among their escorts; Kalecgos himself had landed here, but the escorting dragons remained hovering in the sky, and were now joined by several red drakes, and a pair of bronze drakes.

Marecgos dipped his shoulder down to lessen the distance Jenna would have to jump from to reach the ground, then he shuffled away and took to the air again once she was down.

Jenna quickly strode to where Kalecgos - now back in his mortal guise - was standing and speaking to several men wearing the purple and gold of the Kirin Tor.

Kalecgos nodded to her as she approached. "Lady Townguard, I present to you Warmages Preston, Archus, Anzim, Moran, and Austin."

Each man nodded to her as his name was given, and Jenna nodded back and mentally made a note, or tried to, of which name went with each face. "Greetings."

"They have been briefed on your role in this upcoming fight, and will be joining us in our final push against the Coldarra."

"We are grateful to have you along, champion," Anzim said, bowing formally. "Any extra hand will be greatly appreciated."

"How is this going to work?" Jenna interrupted, sensing he was about to go into an unnecessarily lengthy explanation.

Anzim pursed his lips at her interruption, and Archus stepped forward, pointing. "To our south lays the blue dragon encampment. There was originally a great deal of arcane cages here, but we've since determined that all but four of them are empty - those that were initially inside the now-empty cages have been taken on to the Coldarra."

"We feel we know how to best draw the blue flight's attention to you, Lady Townguard," Moran now spoke up. "And Kalecgos agrees."

"...and that would be?" Jenna prompted, when all males went silent.

"Well, you're welcome to disagree, of course," Moran said hastily, clearing his throat. "We wish for you to ride Kalecgos into battle, and to all appearances be the one leading this rescue effort."

Jenna at first stared at him, then began laughing. "Seriously? That is your plan? Need I point out why that has no conceivable chance of working?"

"We realize the dragons may not buy the fact that you are in command, yes," Archus said dryly. "We are counting on the fact that you slew one of them to incense them beyond rational thought."

Jenna looked to Kalecgos. "Are you blue dragons really - pardon my language - that stupid when angry?"

Kalecgos shrugged. "We are much like you humans in that regard - some of us keep our heads better than others. The illusion of you leading may fail, but they certainly will not miss the fact that I am permitting you to ride upon my back, and they most certainly will not forget the fact that you killed one of their own."

"I see," Jenna said slowly. After a moment, she crossed her arms and sighed heavily. "Who did I kill, exactly?"

"Rikelagosa."

"And her mate?"

"Devrogos."

"Rikelagosa, and Devrogos, got it."

Kalecgos looked at her curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. Let's get moving before those blues have a chance to hurt anyone."

* * *

Amber Ledge had been taken swiftly and with little struggle; the wyrmkin there, supporting the humanoid followers of Malygos, hadn't so much as surrendered as simply switched their allegiance - to this particular group, blue dragons were allies regardless of the circumstances, and as they had not heard from Malygos in quite some time they were willing to take Kalecgos at his word that the Spellweaver was dead. The wyrmkin's turn had made the battle nearly nonexistent, as the mages who supported Malygos either fled or surrendered themselves to the combined forces of the blues, reds, and bronzes.

In Amber Ledge were eight of the twelve missing Stormwind mages; Datavian was not among them and that did little to help Jenna's anxiety. By the time Kalecgos signaled that it was time to move on and take the Coldarra, she was wearing a rut in the stone platform that had held the arcane cages with her constant pacing.

With the rescued mages sent back to Stormwind, and Amber Ledge secured, Jenna found herself back on Marecgos's back and flying to Coldarra, the plan to allow her to ride on Kalecgos apparently forgotten.

Kalecgos had allowed the overseer of Amber Ledge to 'escape' back to the Coldarra, to 'warn' the others there of their coming, and he'd made certain that the overseer - some elf named Salrand - knew of Jenna's exploits in the Stormwind raid.

The air grew colder and the tundra gave way to snowy hills and mountainous regions, and then they were over the channel separating the Coldarra from the mainland and rushing toward a towering, spiraling, ringed mass of what looked like arcane-charged ice.

The structure was the Nexus, the current head quarters of the rogue blues. Somewhere in there was a portal that led to the Eye of Eternity, Malygos's lair - empty now that its lord had been slain. Jenna for a moment wondered if the leader of the rogue blues had claimed it for himself, but she didn't think they'd be that disrespectful...or, at least, it seemed disrespectful to her anyway.

Just as they began their approach the rogue blues began to attack; they flew up from the Nexus, or simply appeared out of thin air, and began to bombard Kalecgos's forces with powerful magics followed by simple brute force.

Marecgos warned Jenna to hang on tightly moments before going into a dizzying corkscrew dive with Jenna clinging to his back, her fingers wedged in tightly under scales to keep herself in place. A few stray spells struck her and, judging from the impact, completely blew off the enchantments Kalecgos had placed on her - temporary ones meant to give her a brief immunity to magic. "Brief" described their duration all too well.

"I won't be able to fight with you on my back," Marecgos suddenly shouted to her from over his shoulder. "I'm going to drop you up ahead and cover you from the air. You'll need to move quickly though!"

Jenna mumbled an affirmative she knew he had no way of hearing, and just hoped that he wasn't going to seriously 'drop' her anywhere...and then she immediately wondered where, what possible place could there be to drop her on.

Jenna carefully turned her head and saw, though Marecgos still was zipping around crazily, that the blue's aerial acrobatics had brought them ridiculously close to the Nexus, specifically the rings that made up the top half.

Just as they came out of a dizzying climb, Marecgos hit something with enough force that Jenna was thrown off his back and sent soaring into the air for an instant before she began to plummet. Before the panic could set in, something snagged her roughly from the air and swung back skyward - Jenna found herself tightly gripped in a dragon's talons, head dangling toward the ground; she could see a senseless Marecgos freefalling toward the ground very, very far below.

The dragon that had caught her flew higher; Jenna was beginning to grow dizzy from the rush of blood to her head when she was thrown - not set down, but thrown - down and then found herself pinned to an icy stone floor by a dragon forepaw with a familiar cracked talon...

"Devrogos," she said, trailing off into a wheeze as the dragon shoved down. "Traitor."

"Traitor? Hardly. The Spellweaver's work shall continue - it was Malygos' wish that this world be saved from the foolhardiness of mortals. I will see to it that his vision comes about...unfortunate for you that you will not be there to see it," the dragon snarled. "Did you feel triumphant when you slew my Rikelagosa from behind? Did it please you to take her unawares? Did you believe I would not seek your life in payment for her death?"

Jenna's arms were pinned to her sides, but she had enough between the pinning talon and her sides that she could wiggle them some as the dragon held her down mainly with his palm on her chest. Maybe she could free a mace and-

She let out a strangled groan as Devrogos increased the pressure on her.

"No, there shall be no heroics here. This place shall be your fall."

Abruptly the talons closed around her; Devrogos picked her up like she was little more than a toy, and swung her up and around to give her a view of the immediate area.

Wherever they were seemed to be the very top of the Nexus; Devrogos was perched on a stone ring, the ring itself being barely ten feet wide with a fifty foot - or more - opening in the middle. Dotting the ring were cages, most empty, but three that were full were little more than arcane barred contraptions: Jenna could see small groups of mages in the three cages, huddled together and shivering madly in the cold wind that drove wisps of snow across the ring.

"See how your pathetic attempts to save your mages has failed, human. Here, perhaps you will appreciate this..."

Devrogos jumped into the air and landed on the far side of the ring, where a single cage was separated from the others. Jenna growled when she saw the occupant.

Datavian was so huddled in on himself that it was only the fact that she recognized the back of his head that confirmed who he was. His robes bore a fine coating of ice crystals, and he didn't appear to be shivering - a dangerous thing, Jenna knew, as if his body had given up trying to shake itself warm then he was very close to freezing to death.

"They're going to die of exposure," Jenna snarled. "Is that how you plan on fixing the world? Killing anyone who don't agree with you?"

"These mages were moved here for your benefit...minus this one," Devrogos said, chuckling nastily. "The taint that marks this one is better off being destroyed."

"Says who? What right do you have to judge the mortals of this world?" Jenna went on, beginning to struggle in the dragon's grip and receiving a painful squeeze in return. "How can you just let these people freeze to death?"

"Easily," Devrogos replied blandly. "I never understood your mortal need to preserve life, especially inferior life."

Jenna bristled, mind racing - she needed to get free, to somehow flag down Kalecgos's forces to deal with Devrogos, and then to get Datavian free and get him to help and quickly. Just seeing him like this was enough to make her temper flare to the point she was surprised she didn't spontaneously combust.

"Inferior? If we're so inferior, then why are you afraid of us?"

Devrogos swung her up so she was nearly nose to nose with her. "Afraid of you? You think I am afraid of you?" he asked incredulously. He began to laugh, blasting Jenna in the face with moist, warm air. "What reason do I have to fear you? I could crush you with hardly a thought. Dragons are superior to the pathetic mortal races, and so it falls to us to save you all from your own created destruction. Afraid! Ha!"

Jenna squirmed again. "You're a coward, and a bully. Aren't blue dragons the masters of magic? Look at you, resorting to size and strength like a schoolyard child! Superior? Prove it: battle me fairly, and I'll show you who's superior, you overgrown garden lizard!"

Devrogos squeezed again until Jenna could no longer breathe.

"Coward? YOU dare to call ME a coward? You humans are dumber than I believed."

"P-prove it," Jenna gasped. "W-what have you...to lose?" And then - "I bested Rikelagosa."

Suddenly Jenna found herself soaring through the empty air, over the fifty foot opening in the middle of the ring, to land on the far side and skid dangerously close to the edge of the ring, her armor gliding easily over the ice-coated stone. She laid there, gasping in air, as Devrogos threw his head back and roared.

"YOU BESTED NO ONE, HUMAN! I WILL SHOW YOU JUST HOW INFERIOR YOU TRULY ARE!"

Jenna climbed to her feet and tested her footing on the stone - it was slick but only in patches that dotted the stone, she discovered. If she watched where she stepped, she likely wouldn't slip and fall.

She got her shield and Spellcleaver off her back as Devrogos took to the air and came for her.

First his tail swung in and Jenna dodged, only to suffer a blistering blast of arcane missiles to drove her to a knee and heated her shield to the point where it was smoking in the frigid air.

Jenna got on her feet and swung at his tail, the only bit of him within her range, only to have him pull it out of her reach and fire a brilliant line of ice shards down at her.

She scrambled along the ring, hearing the ice strike and shatter behind her.

"COWARD!" she roared. "Still afraid of me? Get down here and fight me fairly!"

"I fear NOTHING, especially not a fool!" Devrogos snarled in reply.

The ring shook as the dragon settled down and then thundered after her. Jenna ran several steps, then turned to face his charge. She knocked aside his swiping talons with her shield and slashed with Spellcleaver at his opposite leg.

"A mere scratch!" he laughed; Devrogos's laughter at her attack ended quickly when a thin line of green ichor began to ooze from the 'scratch' and then he growled.

"I will crush you!"

Jenna turned to run again, wondering how in the world she was going to take down an adult dragon, when she slammed into something solid and rebounded, landing on her backside with stars clouding her vision.

She looked up in alarm to see a glittering purple wall had materialized in front of her. Looking around showed that it wasn't a "wall" but a globe of the arcane energy, trapping her on half of the ring with the dragon right behind her.

Jenna turned right as Devrogos opened his mouth and spewed a spell at her; realizing she had nowhere to go, and no way to block the attack, she instinctively raised her shield and simply rushed forward blindly with Spellcleaver leading. To her amazement, the spell contacted her sword and split in half, rushing off to either side of her and doing little more than uncomfortably heating her armor and leaving brilliant afterimages in her vision.

She ran forward and swung, and felt Spellcleaver connect and slice, and then Devrogos was screaming at her.

Before the afterimages had cleared she was struck again and sent airborn, colliding with the arcane barrier behind her and, to her very great alarm, toppling off the ring.

She rolled down the solid globe, pulling in her shield and sword as she did to keep from either losing them or cutting herself, and then began to skid as the incline of the globe became less pronounced. She finally came to a stop, on her stomach, staring down at a gut-wrenching drop with only the seemingly solid but likely very thin arcane globe keeping her in the air.

Looking up, Jenna could see the ring was nearly twenty feet above her, and Devrogos was glaring down at her from its edge. Suddenly, a severed claw - finger? - hit the barrier beside her with a wet plop; she looked up again to see Devrogos pointing his uninjured talons down at her.

"Enjoy the fall," he growled, gesturing briefly.

The barrier shimmered and disappeared, and Jenna was free falling toward the ground that she couldn't even see from this height.

As her stomach threatened to turn itself inside out, and as the wind whistled around her, Jenna waited for the inevitable life-ending impact, but instead was slammed sideways suddenly enough that her shield arm struck whatever it was that had hit her, breaking the straps that held it to her arm and popping her elbow painfully while her lower half was clamped tightly inside something.

The shield fell away, but Jenna was now on her way back up into the air; she twisted and looked, and saw with a surge of alarm that her lower body was clenched tightly inside the mouth of a blue dragon. Had Devrogos come back to tear her apart?

"Don' shtab, don' shtab!" the dragon quickly mumbled around her legs as she brought Spellcleaver to bear. "Itsh Mardus, don' shtab me or I'll dop oo!"

They soared up and over the ring, and Jenna was uncerimoniously spat out onto the icy stone, the saliva coating her freezing instantly. A blue dragon settled onto the ring beside her, and Jenna looked up to see it was a blue whose right side of his face had been shredded from snout to halfway down his long neck, and was bleeding ichor profusely from the deep scratches and also from an empty eye socket.

"Uh..."

Devrogos flared his wings from where he sat on the other side of the ring. "And are you here to challenge me as well? Was tearing your eye out not enough of a warning to stay away?"

Marecgos snorted loudly. "You know us young ones, never learning our lessons. Tell me, did Rikelagosa always enjoy rutting in a snowbank, or was she just trying to make it a special occasion for me?"

Jenna scrambled away from the young blue as Devrogos let out an incoherant cry and charged at Marecgos. Marecgos stood his ground until the older dragon was nearly on him, then "fell" backwards off the ring with Devrogos right on his tail.

Now alone on the ring, Jenna raced for the arcane cages, skidding to a halt beside one that had five people in it. They looked at her hopefully, and she in turn looked at Spellcleaver, and then at the bars.

The sword had cut through both spell and dragon scale...and skin, and bone. Would it cut through the bars of this cage? Mikael had said it was sharp and would cut through both wood and metal, and thus far it had held up to that claim...

She motioned for the humans clustered in the cage to step back as far as they could, then she swung Spellcleaver in a two-handed grip, at about shoulder-height. The sword struck the cage and, instead of slicing through it as she was expecting, the entire cage instead tore apart in wispy shreds of dissipating magic; Jenna was actually unbalanced for a moment, as she'd been expecting resistance from the bars as though she were cutting through metal - the resistance she encountered would rank right up with cutting through a block of cheese.

The mages, now freed, clustered around her with faint, teeth-chattering cheers. Jenna shoved her way through them, pointing.

"You lot free the others," she ordered.

As they hurried away, stumbling in the cold, to the other filled cages, Jenna sprinted around the ring and came to a halt in front of the cage that held a motionless Datavian.

She "sliced" through the bars and caught him as he slumped forward, tearing off her cloak and struggling to wrap it around him in the wind, resting on one knee and turning them so she could act as a wind block.

"Datavian?"

He was breathing but otherwise motionless, though his eyes flicked briefly up to her face and seemed to widen slightly.

Jenna bundled the cloak around him and then wrapped her arms around his waist and stood, lifting him upright. He got his feet under him, but couldn't manage to walk; Jenna half-dragged, half-carried him to where the mages she'd freed were releasing the last of the captive magic users.

"One of you needs to send myself and this man back to Stormwind, right away," she shouted as she approached.

A man separated himself from the cluster of casters - some human, some blood elves, though there was a single Forsaken and troll among their numbers - and bowed deeply, then began to cast, but was interrupted as a massive figure loomed over them suddenly.

Devrogos - with no sign of Marecgos - glared down at them, eyes glinting.

"All in one place, ideal for wiping you out!"

From the center of the ring came a massive plume of fire, arching high and roaring over the humanoids heads - most of them, Jenna included, dropping flat to the stone surface of the ring as the inferno raced overhead - and slammed into the blue, engulfing him in brilliant red-white flames. Devrogos shrieked and flailed in midair, burning to little more than bone before them.

The plume of magical fire died, Devrogos's remains fell in pieces out of sight, and Kalecgos, with the limp form of Marecgos draped over his back, flew up nimbly through the center of the ring, carefully perching on the edge nearby.

"My apologies," he said, nodding to them. "Their resistance was a tad more problematic than anticipated."

Feeling bruised, battered, cold, and panicked over Datavian's near-comatose state, Jenna didn't bother berating the blue and instead carried Datavian over to him as quickly as she could. It was time to get him home.

* * *

Being warm was something he would never take for granted again.

Thankfully nothing had been damaged from the intense cold - all of his limbs and extremities were free of frostbite or other injury, though now Datavian had to deal with the worst cold he'd ever had in his life.

He would never again take for granted the ability to simply breathe through his nose either, come to think of it.

Datavian was sitting up in bed, Mikael having finally left him for the afternoon. He was in the same room he'd been placed in when Mikael had brought him back to Stormwind...his recovery this time would be quicker than before, thankfully, as he could deal with a cold versus standing on death's precipice.

On the table beside his bed sat a bowl of broth he was supposed to drink, but he didn't feel hungry. Instead he felt...relieved. Grateful. And...ultimately, curious.

His curiosity wasn't about how he'd survived...he knew that quite well. He instead was curious as to WHY...

Why had Jenna come for him?

Where was she now?

The memory of her face hovering over him on that frigid ring was burned into his memory, and he knew he would never forget it. What he wanted to know was how she had found him, and why she'd even bothered...she could have been killed by those dragons, and his life wasn't worth hers.

By Mikael's admission, Datavian had been finally returned to Stormwind in the early, early hours of the day. He had been tended to, and despite how he felt now - stuffed nose, heavy head, frequent sneezing, low fever - he knew he'd be fine if he just went home...but he didn't want to return to his home in the Mage Quarter until he'd spoken with Jenna.

He'd just have to find her, he supposed.

There wasn't anyone outside his door, and Datavian had to walk to nearly the chapel proper itself before he encountered anyone, but thankfully the priest he met was polite and helpful enough, and directed him back to the dormitory area he'd just left, informing him that Jenna was in a room six doors down on the right.

Six doors down and to the right - amusingly, directly across the hall from where he'd been - Datavian knocked, and heard a grunt from within the room that somewhat sounded like 'come in'.

He paused in the hallway, sneezing several times into the bend of his elbow, then gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Jenna was laying in an oversized bed against the far wall, a pillow held suspended over her face, looking down the length of her body at him.

She smiled weakly, winced, and slowly eased the pillow under her head.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm...I have a cold," Datavian answered, suddenly feeling awkward. "I..."

Jenna again winced, and gestured for him to come closer. "Not so loud...please."

Feeling amost shy, Datavian carefully walked over and sat on the very edge of the bed opposite of her. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Jenna chuckled, then winced once more and held her head. "No, not really injured, I just drank some firebloom whiskey before I went after you. Great painkiller in the short term, but the hang over afterwards is enough to make you regret it," she replied faintly. "I feel like I have a badger armed with a flail loose inside my skull..."

Datavian stared at her. "...I'm sorry. This is my fault, you-"

She held up a hand, then used the same hand to grab the front of his robes and pull him down so he was nearly on the same level as she was.

"- listen, and listen well," she said quietly, fixing a stare on him with watering eyes. "This is not your fault. Stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault."

He cleared his throat and sniffled a bit. "I, uh..."

"You've made a habit out of it, and I want it to stop. If something is truly your fault, I'll let you know," she added, letting go.

He sat back up, straightening his robes and feeling his face flush. "Yes ma'am..."

She laughed, then plucked the pillow out from behind her head and put it over her face. "I'm just glad you're safe."

"Why did you come after me?" he asked in a rush. "What reason could you possibly have to risk your life like that?"

She moved the pillow so she could see him. "You're my friend. Friends don't stand by idly when friends are in danger."

He stared at her, then dropped his gaze to the bed between them. "I...don't know what I did to deserve you."

Jenna chuckled again. "Another thing that needs to stop is this belief that you're somehow less than human. You're not a bad person, Datavian...I wish you'd see that."

"I wish I could see what you see."

"You will, eventually, once we get you back to normal."

He looked up at her again, raising an eyebrow. "'We?'" he repeated.

Jenna closed her eyes then sat up, hugging the pillow to her chest a moment before opening her eyes and looking at him, smiling. "Yes, 'we'. After all I just went through to get you back, I'm not about to just let you wander off. You want to start over in life, and I want to help you do that...so whatever you may need, just ask. I'll be here. I promise."

He stared at her for a long moment, a hint of a smile on his face, then he rapidly spun around and sneezed again into the bend of his elbow.

When he turned back around Jenna was hiding a smile behind a hand. "I promise," she repeated again. "And, as my first act of helping you start over, it looks like I'll need to get you back in good health again. I'm sure another dose of tonic wouldn't hurt."

Datavian's expression went sour. "Oh please no, not that terrible stuff again."

She smiled widely, but put the pillow back behind her and laid back down. "Oh, yes...and don't worry, if my hang over from the whiskey hasn't gone away by the time I wake up again, I'll be drinking some of it too. Misery loves company, they say."

He snorted, then chuckled and shook his head. As he began to stand Jenna caught a handful of the back of his robes and tugged hard enough that he ended up flat on his back in the bed, staring at the ceiling and with the top of his head brushing against Jenna's side where it lay under the light blanket she had over her.

"No, wait, stay here."

"Excuse me?" he asked, resisting the urge to cough as he felt the contents of his nose abruptly draining down the back of his throat.

"Kalecgos said everything was over, but after everything we just went through I really don't trust his word...stay here, where I can keep an eye on you. If anything so much as mentions the word blue while coming through that door, I'm going to show them what it means to mess with a firebloom whiskey hangover."

Datavian sat up and awkwardly laid out beside her; the bed was big enough that there was at least two feet of empty bed between them, but it still felt strange to be laying in bed with a woman. He lay on his back, trying to quietly swallow the stuff dripping down his throat as he listened to Jenna shift and breathe beside him; when he assumed she was asleep he very carefully rolled onto his side and sniffled quietly into a sleeve.

She was indeed asleep; he curled his arm under his head and watched her chest rise and fall, as regular as a heart beat. His heart was still beating thanks to her...thanks to his friend.

* * *

The staff lashed out and glanced off her shoulder, but was expertly twirled around and coming at her again before Jenna could exploit the opening her opponent had created. He was good with a staff, she had to admit that: his skill and the weapon's reach were mostly keeping her at bay, though she'd taken advantage of a few mistakes to land some bruising blows he wouldn't likely forget.

He swung at her legs now and she hopped over, rushing in with her training sword leading only to suddenly have her legs swept out from under her, sending her tumbling to the ground to land flat on her back.

"You cheated," she gasped, gulping in air to replace the air that'd been blasted out of her from the fall.

"A little," Datavian panted, letting the staff drop to the ground as he bent over, hands on his knees. "I wasn't about to get bruised again."

"Then don't leave openings," she said, laughing weakly as she worked to catch her breath. "And quit cheating with magic or else I'll start using it too."

Datavian stepped over and offered her a hand that she accepted, and then tugged her to her feet before rubbing at multiple purpling bruises that marched up and down his bare arms.

Jenna had quite a few bruises herself, Datavian having greatly improved in the two weeks she'd been training with him. After a week of him laying in bed, recovering from a cold, Jenna had dragged him out to the training grounds, intending to teach him how to defend himself without magical means. To her surprise, he was already proficient in several, especially anything that was long like a staff or a glaive.

More important than weapon skills however was she'd noticed that he seemed to be becoming...a little more comfortable in his own skin. He was more open to her now, more friendly, and seemed to genuinely enjoy their time spent together, whether it was him continuing her magical education or her beating the snot out of him in the training grounds. She was slowly getting him used to being around other people as well; he wasn't so moody or quiet anymore either.

Datavian was smiling at her and about to say something, but his gaze flicked over her shoulder and his eyes widened moments before he abruptly dropped into a bow.

Jenna turned just as Varian strode into the training grounds, and snapped off a salute.

"My lord," she said.

He irritably waved a hand at her. "Enough of that, you should know better."

She looked between him and Datavian - she had gotten into the habit of not being casual with Varian with others around, and she knew Varian had noticed this as he never chastised her for it in those times...was this his way of telling her it was fine if it was just Datavian?

"Tirion's forces have broken down the door to Icecrown Citadel," Varian said, interrupting Jenna's thoughts and sending them careening in a new direction.

"What? Truly?" Jenna sputtered.

Datavian straightened where he stood, his gaze snapping to Jenna, looking worried.

Varian nodded curtly. "I just received word...we're leaving tomorrow morning for Northrend. Be ready to depart." He looked over to Datavian, his expression unreadable. "Both of you."

"Both of us?" Jenna repeated. "No, that's - I mean," she stammered, realizing it sounded like she was about to refuse his order. "I mean, uh, of course I'LL be ready...but, Datavian too? Why?"

Varian looked at her, then turned his attention to Datavian; for several moments Datavian stood silently under the man's gaze, only a brief shifting of his weight on his feet betraying his uneasiness.

"I'm fulfilling a request he made of me when he first returned to Stormwind, half-dead and sickly as he was," Varian said finally.

Datavian looked at first confused, then his face lit up in recognition, then just as quickly his expression composed itself into one of unreadable indifference. "I will be ready, my lord."

"See that you are. Jenna," he said, nodding at her before turning and leaving the two of them in stunned silence.

"...I can't believe this," she said finally into the silence.

Datavian moved away from her, retrieving his staff from the floor and returning it to the weapon's rack on the wall. "How can you not? You knew the forces in Northrend were working to enter Icecrown Citadel, it should come as no surprise that they managed to do so."

"No, I mean..." Jenna ran a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. "I meant, why would he send you north? You haven't been a part of this conflict, nor have you joined the military forces, or-"

He chuckled, now going to retrieve her dropped sword. "Do I need a reason to? Defeating the Lich King in the north will keep my family here...and everyone else...safe. It is something I am proud to do."

"But..." Jenna sighed heavily, unable to find a way to voice her uncertainty. "...what did he mean, fulfilling a request?" she asked finally.

He stood ramrod straight and froze, hardly moving even when breathing, clutching the practice sword to his chest. After a moment, he simply shook his head and walked back to the weapon's rack. "It is nothing, it means nothing anymore...and I'm not comfortable thinking about it at the moment," he added quietly. He turned, giving her a forced smile. "Shall we go to the Pig and Whistle tonight, and have a good meal before we go off to war?"

"That smile doesn't fool anyone."

"It wasn't meant to," he replied.

She rolled her eyes but walked up beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Fine, fine, but you're paying."

"I'll pay, but you're buying your own liquor."

She shoved him away and he stumbled, laughing. "Oh please. Just because I was raised by dwarves doesn't mean I have their alcohol tolerance, or their taste for it. I rarely drink and you know it."

"I know, but I figured I should be frank about it upfront."

"Get moving," she chuckled, giving him another shove toward the door. "Before we eat I want a bath."

"I don't think we'd be any different than some of the patrons that frequent the tavern," Datavian said dryly.

"Just because they smell like a horse doesn't mean we need to."

"True enough. I will meet you there then."

They moved through the Keep and out into the streets, Datavian quickly striding off even though Jenna knew he could easily just magic himself away to his home - one thing she'd noticed was if she had to walk, he would do the same. He was a peculiar man still in some things.

Because he had much farther to travel and therefore would take more time in cleaning up, Jenna didn't feel hurried as she strolled toward her home in the dwarven district.

She was being sent to Icecrown tomorrow morning...and Datavian would be with her. Despite knowing he was likely able to defend himself, she mentally made a vow to keep him out of trouble. He'd had no part at all in the conflict against the Scourge, he had no idea what he was about to get in to...many of the horrors he would see would be things Jenna was already over the shock of.

She let a small grin cross her features; at least Scourge was something she knew, and something she could handle. It wouldn't be hard to keep him out of trouble...hopefully.


	8. Chapter 8

He spat over the rail and wearily rested his arms across it, his head slowly dipping down until his forehead lay on his arms.

"I've killed countless people in cold blood, enslaved and tortured, torn apart and put back together innocents. I've seen gore and violence the likes of which have never been witnessed by any sane being on Azeroth, and a boat ride is enough to make me lose my stomach," Datavian groaned, wiping his mouth on a sleeve.

Jenna chuckled and gently patted his back. "You'll get your sea legs, eventually."

"I'm certain I will, ten minutes after we dock."

She heard a quiet burp, and respectively looked away as he lurched over the rail again and heaved. The calm waters around Stormwind's harbor had quickly given way to pre-storm waters and, judging by the clouds on the horizon, the steam-powered ship, the Kraken, would run into at least one storm before crossing the Great Sea and reaching Valiance Keep.

"Well, on the bright side, at some point you won't have anything left to vomit up," Jenna said after he'd stopping heaving and was back to laying his head on his arms. "It won't take us long to reach Valiance Keep, not on a steam-powered ship."

"It cannot come quickly enough," came the muffled reply.

Jenna patted his back again, then turned at the sound of approaching boot steps. One of their fellow soldiers, a member of the regiment they were assigned to, stopped a few feet away and gave her a salute.

"Champion Townguard, King Wrynn has requested your presence, and that of Mage Sullivan's, in his quarters at your earliest convenience."

Jenna returned the salute quickly. "We'll be there shortly, thank you."

The man nodded and turned on his heel, striding away as quickly as he'd walked up to them, eventually disappearing down into the hold where the rest of the regiment was gathered; for the most part everyone was below deck, checking gear and uneasily - or, determinedly - making small talk amongst their fellows, all carefully dancing around the reason they were being sent to Northrend: theirs would be the regiment that would ascend the frozen spire and confront Arthas directly.

When Jenna had last been below deck she had been painfully aware of the tension in the air...death was never far from a soldier's mind, and Arthas was death incarnate so far as most were concerned. There was definitely a fear there, and buried somewhere underneath it was a determination to do all in their power to end Arthas's undead Scourge. They would fight and likely most would die, as men tend to do in wars, and it was strange to be among living men now that she may see laying on the corpse wagons later.

"Are you well?"

Jenna blinked out of her reverie and glanced over to see Datavian looking up at her from where he hunched over the railing.

"I'm fine. Are YOU well?"

"Something troubles you," Datavian responded, blatantly ignoring her question. "I can see it in your face."

She snorted. "We're going to be confronting Arthas soon...you have never seen the Scourge, have you?" Datavian shook his head. "It's not pretty. It's terrifying, angering, depressing, and sickening. Men and women, Horde and Alliance alike, that were once living beings slain and raised as something unholy and bent to the Lich King's will...they're things to be feared, and pitied. Ultimately...I guess I wonder if I'll end up as they are, should our efforts fail in the north."

He studied her a moment, and then shook his head again. "You won't, because I will not let that happen."

He said it with such fervor that Jenna was suddenly, and uneasily, reminded of the night elf Randalan, and she licked dry lips and pushed away from the railing roughly.

"Come on, the king wishes to see us."

She was several paces away before she heard him following, and he caught up rather quickly considering how jittery he was with his seasickness.

"Wait," he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder once he was close enough. "What did I say this time?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

His hand on her shoulder pulled her to a halt. "How will I learn how to function in polite company, if I'm not informed of my mistakes?" he asked, smiling slightly. "I said something that bothered you, I'd like to know what it was so I don't repeat the same mistake later."

Jenna patted his hand briefly. "You're really pale, are you-"

"Don't change the subject," he interrupted.

She blew out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. It's not what you said, but how you said it that...well, it reminded me of someone I'd rather forget. It's nothing to do with you and, how'd you put it, polite company? Nothing to do with that, just something that brought up someone I'd rather forget ever existed. And...well, nevermind."

"I see...and I am sorry," Datavian replied after a moment. "But...nevermind what?"

"You are well-practiced on being a pain in the ass," Jenna grumbled.

"No, I merely wish to fully understand my gaffe."

"Look, just..." She paused and ran a hand through her hair - for once hanging free of braids or ties - and just shook her head. "We're heading into hell. Don't do anything that'll get you killed on my account, all right?" Again she reached up to pat the hand on her shoulder. "We'll get through this, both of us, so long as we don't do anything stupid...so, no heroics, got it?"

Datavian chuckled at her. "I suppose it is good to know you think I'm such an idiot."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she retorted, pulling his hand off her shoulder and letting it drop.

"I know. My comment earlier was merely meant to convey that I will be watching out for you. If I can prevent injury to you, I will do it."

"Yeah, and the person I'd rather forget thought that too," Jenna sighed heavily. "In the end, it...got him killed," she said.

His head tilted to the side as he studied her. "...was he a lover?"

She flinched like she'd been slapped. "No. Never. Not a lover, no."

"I'm sorry, it just seemed -"

"There was this man...he was a night elf, his name was Randalan," she interrupted in a rush - if she was going to bother with remembering, it'd be as quick (and hopefully painless) as possible. "He fancied me, to the point of obsession. He gave himself over to the Lich King, made a deal: Randalan would kill King Wrynn, and in exchange the Lich King would give ME to Randalan. It...he very nearly had me," she added quietly. "I was in their clutches, and even was in the early stages of the undead plague, when King Wrynn led forces in to destroy the Scourge holdings I was being held captive in - Varian carried me out of that place himself, or so I'm told. I still nearly succumbed...it's just something I don't want to remember - I mean, how could anyone DO that to someone?"

She was aware she was working her way up to a rant, could feel the antsy feeling of too much energy as her adrenaline started to kick in, and began to pace to try and calm herself down.

Datavian watched her pace a moment, then shook his head slowly. "People will do amazing, terrible, terrifying things for love. Love is something more precious than gold, more sought than immortality, and more dangerous than anything in the world."

"This wasn't love," she said flatly.

A hint of a smile crossed his features. "Lust is much the same as love when it comes to dangerous applications. What happened to this Randalan?"

"Varian beheaded him, and gave me the severed head," she said bluntly.

"...I could think of better 'get well soon' gifts. Are flowers not acceptable anymore?"

It was such a ridiculous statement that she snorted and then began laughing, which was apparently enough to trigger an abrupt tension release; she felt the odd chill sensation that was left behind when the adrenaline left, and inhaled deeply and slowly several times.

"We'll get through this war together, and then get back to Stormwind," she said finally. "We've work to do, after all."

"We do?"

"We do," she repeated. "You have a terrible left hook for someone claiming to be left-handed."

"I never said I was left-handed, only that I can do things equally well with both my left and right hands."

"You throw punches like a girl."

"...YOU are a girl."

"You throw punches like a girl that isn't me." She stepped aside to avoid the playful fist he swung - offbalanced, as it was - in her direction, laughing. "Come on, the king is expecting us."

* * *

Varian found the spectacle of Datavian's seasickness to be both amusing and frustrating.

"I will be fine once we reach solid ground," Datavian insisted again, easing himself into the chair the king had indicated moments ago. "I already feel better than I did earlier, I just need to get off this ship."

"If you are not well enough to function properly when we dock at Valiance Keep, I will be forced to replace you," Varian growled, dropping back into his own chair.

Jenna, sitting off to the side of both of them, dragged her chair closer at that. "...replace him?"

Varian pressed his lips together into a thin line, nodding slowly. "Yes, replace him. You two...will not be accompanying the regiment to Tirion in Icecrown. You will both instead be meeting a contact in Dalaran."

"Why?" Jenna asked. "Hasn't the citadel been breached?"

"It has, but the Scourge are pouring out of it like a flood out of a broken dam," Varian replied. "The doors have been battered down, but our men and those of the Ashen Verdict are now being forced to fight in a bottleneck of a doorway, trying to push our way inside."

Jenna looked over at Datavian and caught his eye briefly; he simply shrugged and remained silent, so Jenna turned her attention back to Varian. "Then...wouldn't we be more useful at the citadel? Why are we meeting in Dalaran?"

A grim smile appeared on Varian's face. "You will still be at the citadel. The contact is a mage that is keeping in touch with Jaina Proudmoore. Jaina has found what appears to be a small side entrance to the citadel, and has taken a detachment of men there to examine it."

"You're joking?"

"I'm not. With the bulk of the Scourge's forces focused on trying to repel us from their front gates, now is the perfect time to see if this entrance is of any use to us. You, and him," Varian said, nodding to Jenna and Datavian in turn, "will be accompanying Jaina along with a small force, and entering the citadel that way. Jaina is already at work securing the entrance the best she can with the forces sent with her. You will assist her in any task she may require, but mainly I want to send her the best fighters I've got to ensure our success at gaining this possibility."

"Into the belly of the beast, in the most literal sense," Datavian said quietly, with a faint smile.

"Indeed. And...while it is important to examine this possibility, it is more important that none of you fall to the Scourge. If things become too tense, get out and get yourselves to safety. Do what you must to return alive," Varian said, giving them both a measured and yet stern look. "Go and do what you need to do prepare yourselves for this. You're dismissed."

Datavian stood, bowed, and left without a word. Jenna was more slow in standing - her mind was turning over the fact that she'd be sneaking into Icecrown, trying to make sense of what sounded like sheer suicide.

But then, she thought wryly, this entire Scourge business was sheer suicide.

Just before she stepped through the doorway to leave, she heard Varian loudly clear his throat behind her, and she paused to look back.

He was standing, staring at some point on the floor near her feet, but within a breath raised his gaze to hers.

"I meant what I said when I said do whatever it takes to return alive," he said quietly. "Stormwind needs her champion."

Jenna felt her face redden; she swallowed, nodded, and then stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her.

* * *

She couldn't help but smile at the expression of simple, child-like wonder on his face as they walked through the streets of Dalaran.

Jenna had been as spellbound as Datavian on her first trip to the magical floating city: such a city hadn't seemed possible to her then, but the more she was sent back and forth between Icecrown and Argent Crusade outposts, using Dalaran as a middle point for each trip, the more used to the city she'd become, and the less its splendor impressed her.

That's not to say she didn't find it impressive at all, no no, not that...it was just it didn't catch her eye, make her pause, anymore. In a way, she was sad she'd lost that sensation, but being as she'd only walked on the main streets of the city she imagined there was much she was missing and would have that sensation back again someday.

It was never a pleasant thing, to realize you'd grown up.

"This place is certainly amazing," she heared Datavian murmur.

She grinned, looking over at him. "You definitely seem taken with it."

"It is beautiful on so many levels to me - I can see the physical craftsmanship, but I can feel the weave of magic that imbues this place. There is such delicate work here, I could examine this place for days and still find something new to catch my attention."

"Just don't wander off the edge in your excitement."

The look he sent her was sour. "Surely you don't think I'm that big of an idiot."

"I don't think you're an idiot at all, but you can never tell with mages."

He smiled some at that, and fell back to allow her to lead him through the crowded streets. For a floating city in the middle of Northrend, Dalaran tended to have a high number of people passing through it at any given time, and today seemed to be no exception.

"Who are we seeking here?"

Jenna glanced back at him. "We're looking for a woman named Nelphi, she's an apprentice to the mages here."

"I wonder how this Nelphi will be able to send us where Jaina is," Datavian said, tearing his attention away from their surroundings to focus on Jenna. "Isn't that what King Wrynn said we would be doing? Teleportation is no easy feat, especially if you're sending someone somewhere you haven't personally been."

"He did say that," Jenna agreed with a shrug. "I don't know the specifics. This Nelphi woman is supposed to tell us where to go next."

Datavian's expression hinted at annoyance, though she could tell he was trying hard to hide it. "Would it not have been easier to just travel directly?"

"Maybe. And maybe Lady Proudmoore didn't want us sent into a losing fight," Jenna replied, shrugging again.

"Certainly valid concerns."

Jenna and Datavian both stopped and turned to see a shorter woman, with blonde hair cropped close to her skull and with the brilliant purple and gold tabard of the Kirin Tor on over dark robes, standing behind them, panting and out of breath.

"I'm sorry, I've actually been trailing you both for several minutes, as I wasn't sure you were the two I was told to keep watch for."

"You're Nelphi?" Jenna asked.

The woman nodded. "Yes, and there is no time to lose. Lady Proudmoore is already within the citadel and pushing forward. She needs reinforcements, I shall be sending you immediately."

"Immediately as in right this very moment?" Datavian interrupted, stepping toward her.

Nelphi nodded quickly. "There's no time to waste."

Jenna rolled her eyes but stepped up beside Datavian. "Fine, just get us moving. And I hope nothing in this 'plan' changes."

Nelphi nodded again and went into a spellcasting. Jenna nudged in closer to Datavian as the apprentice mage sent both away.

* * *

It was explained to them, upon their arrival, that Nelphi had had a single-use spell that would home in on wherever Jaina happened to be - useful, Jenna had initially thought, but also incredibly dangerous as she and Datavian could have arrived anywhere. The idea of Jaina having been captured, and thus the two of them appearing in the middle of a Scourge laboratory, immediately crossed Jenna's mind but she kept silent; it was unpleasant to think about, was rather easy to picture ocurring, and was one of those thoughts better forgotten as quickly as possible.

Waiting for them with Jaina were two archmages, a man and a woman whom Jenna couldn't remember the names of; there was also Carona, a pleasant surprise for Jenna as she hadn't seen the loud-mouthed draenei since she left the tournament to serve as Varian's guard in Stormwind.

Also with them was someone who had, at first, remained leaning against the wall where he'd been standing when Jenna and Datavian had first appeared in the darkened room with the others.

He was dressed in black saronite armor trimmed in shaggy rhino fur, and a massive, runed waraxe leaned against the wall at his side. His face was hidden behind a full-face helm, with only the thinest slits for him to see out of...and out of those slits came a hint of a blue glow. A death knight.

The death knight had waited silently as Jenna and Carona greeted one another, then had quietly walked forward to stand in front of Jenna.

She stared up into the blue-glowing eye slits, feeling a small knot of unease form in her stomach - Randalan sprang to mind and she quickly squashed any thought of the night elf - as, for a few moments, the death knight simply stared down at her.

"I see you became a soldier after all, despite being a girl."

Jenna froze at his words. "...what?"

"You're not a commander though, so it still doesn't count."

Slowly, with Jenna staring on in surprise, the death knight reached up to remove his helm.

The blonde hair was matted and dirty, but cut close to the skull. There were a few patches of rot in the cheeks, but the strong jawline was unmistakeable - Jenna was shocked to realize she knew this face...or, had known the face. It had been much younger when she knew it, but...

She smiled weakly, and reached up to lay a hand on the armored shoulder.

"Oh, William..."

He smiled at her, a gruesome thing as the rot patches pulled and came apart briefly to show the glint of his teeth, then sucked back together and hid them from view as he began to speak again. "It has definitely been too long, and the circumstances could be better."

"Do you know William?" Jaina spoke up then.

Jenna looked over at her, where she stood with Datavian and the others, having forgotten they were even there for a moment. "William...William was the first friend I made, after fleeing Stormwind and arriving in Lordaeron."

"That grouch Thunderforge only stayed six months in Lordaeron, before he took her off to wherever," William added. He gently patted her hand on his shoulder, their gauntlets clinking quietly. "I never forgot her though...she's not an easy person to forget."

Jenna pulled her hand back, holding it first in front of her, then letting it drop awkwardly back to her side. "I used to tell William how I'd grow up and learn how to fight, and become a soldier to fight so no city need to ever fall, like Stormwind did. He liked to tell me he'd be a commander and I could be his second in command, since girls wouldn't make good commanders."

"And she'd put me in a headlock and make me eat dirt everytime I told her that," William said, chuckling. "Still not a commander, though."

She lightly slapped his stomach, her hand pinging off his plate armor. "Champion, which is better than a commander."

He gave her another toothy grin. "So I've heard."

Jenna turned away from William as he slid his helm back on, turning to face the others. "What are we looking at, Lady Proudmoore? Va- King Wrynn was to the point, but I feel there is something more we ought to know."

Jaina nodded. "Our combined forces have broken down the front gates of the citadel, and are fighting to secure a foothold within it. Agents from SI:7 discovered this side entrance...we felt it would be worth our while to investigate. We diverted some of our men to here, and have taken this area and the one beyond it, and we have it tentatively secured against Scourge resistance."

Jenna raised an eyebrow. "'Tentatively'? Define tentatively."

Caron snorted loudly. "You missed all the fun. We came stomping in here, through the side door, and found ourselves on a series of catwalks stretched out with these giant turbines grinding away under us. We fought over those, found a few Scourge-"

"-more than a few," William interrupted dryly.

"-and ended up here, first," the draenei finished.

Jenna looked around; they were in a large circular room, and she found to her surprise that directly behind her was a large stone head of some sort, shattered into large but recognizable pieces. Ahead of them were twin staircases leading up a short ways to a raised dais, which held a portal that glowed dimly in the light. "And? That doesn't explain tentatively."

"After we secured here, we went through the portal and found ourselves in the main quarry that supplies the Scourge with saronite," Jaina went on quietly. "In it were many slaves, and also many overseers...we lost many men taking the quarry, and while we have freed and armed the slaves, the remaining Scourge there in the quarry are fighting back. Our position is tentative."

Jenna stared at her. "So you're telling me we could lose our foothold at any moment, and yet Varian sent only myself and Datavian to back you up?"

"There's...more to this than that," Jaina said after a moment, grimacing slightly. "While it is true more men would be incredibly helpful to hold our position here within the citadel, what I truly requested were the most truthworthy individuals Varian could spare."

"...why?"

"Because we caught an overseer, and he's told us where Frostmourne is," William said bluntly. "He seems to think that just separating Arthas from the blade would win this for us."

Jenna could do little more than stare at him silently – just getting Frostmourne would 'win' this war? If it were really that simple then why-

"To my understanding, just the act of touching Frostmourne steals the soul," Datavian said quietly, interrupting Jenna's train of thought. "Do we know how to seperate the sword from the Lich King without losing ourselves to it?"

"I believe I know of a way to place the sword in a sort of stasis...we would not need to touch it if that works," Jaina replied.

"And if it doesn't, that's partly why I'm here," William snorted. "While spending an eternity trapped in a cursed sword doesn't appeal much to me, it's got to be better than spending it in a rotting body that's in danger of falling apart."

Jenna's attention immediately snapped to the death knight. "What?"

William shrugged. "This current existence of mine is rather unpleasant, as you can imagine. Once Arthas is gone I plan on finding a hole to crawl into, and hopefully this time I stay in it."

"But-"

"We should get moving," Datavian interrupted, giving Jenna an apologetic look. "If the situation is as tentative as you say, we may lose our opportunity while we argue over what we'll do."

Jenna was shaking her head. "He is not picking up that sword."

"Let us first see if this overseer's words are even true. If we cannot even find Frostmourne, then this argument will be pointless," Jaina said into the silence after a moment.

Together they turned to climb the stairs and cross through the portal, and within moments Jenna found herself blinking in a harsh and cold wind. The quarry Jaina had mentioned was huge, open to the sky, and Jenna could see piles of Scourge remains dotting the walkways around pits and digging areas, guarded by uneasy looking persons of mixed race – even Horde races were keeping watch.

After a moment Jenna allowed her attention to move upward, and wasn't the least bit surprised to see that only three of the quarry's four "walls" were natural; the fourth wall, as she mentally marked it, was actually pressed up against Icecrown Citadel itself.

"Our entry point is there, I'm guessing," she said, biting her lower lip as she stared at the imposing saronite wall.

Jaina nodded silently, and merely began walking that way without explanation. Jenna and the other followed, but as they walked Jenna allowed herself to fall back beside William.

"Please tell me you were not sent here on a suicide mission."

William shrugged. "Not exactly, but death knights are in strange positions, at least within the Alliance forces. We're not really trusted, and we're considered expendable, but we do get the job done...I wasn't sent here expressly to pick up Frostmourne, you know. It was just an idea that occured to me as we fought our way through the Scourge – if stripping Arthas of his sword dismantles the Scourge somehow, I think one little soul (namely, mine) would be a small price to pay to ensure thousands of others remain free."

He turned to look down at her, blue eyes blazing within his helm slits. "I hate this undeath, I really do. I ache for violence, I craze blood and death and murder. It burns in you like you swallowed a campfire – it's the only real emotion I feel, now. I can fake laughter, pleasantness. I can pretend to be the man I was before I died, but it's not the same."

Jenna smiled weakly. "Is that your way of saying you're not actually happy to see me?"

He chuckled and it was a strange, otherworldly sound. "No. That was...I think that's the closest I've felt to true emotion in a long while. It _is_ good to see you, Jenna. It's good to know you're alive and well. But I'm definitely not the boy you knew."

She nodded slowly, and turned to focus on where they were walking. "I guess I knew that already... I'm sorry, you know. I'm sorry you're trapped like you are."

"Don't be sorry, be angry. Arthas did this to me, and he'll do this to the entire world if we don't stop him."

She nodded again, then blew out a sigh. "Do me a favor though?"

"Yeah?"

"If we get out of this war in one piece, tell me where you plan to bury yourself? I'll come visit."

Jenna could hear the smile in his voice. "I can do that."

* * *

They came out of a tunnel, bored through the ice and mountainous ridge that formed the quarry's boundaries, and found themselves on a wide platform full of what Jenna assumed was a battalion of the freed and armed slaves.

At their head was a black haired man with a scruffy beard and dark circles under his eyes; he introduced himself as Martin Victus, and Jenna was only half-listening as he gave Jaina a report on the current strength of the slaves.

As the two spoke, Jenna found herself wandering out toward where the slaves – now soldiers, she corrected herself, though they had been soldiers first anyhow – milled about. Some nodded to her, some smiled, some glowered. She knew there was a good chance that many of them knew who she was thanks to the tournament, and the thought settled strangely on her; she hadn't really joined the tournament searching for glory or recognition, she'd just wanted a good fight and to see how jousting could possibly be useful against the Scourge. And now here she was, walking among men and women who knew her, and she didn't know them at all – was this how Varian felt, perhaps, when he walked among the soldiers and his subjects in Stormwind? Jenna wasn't sure she cared for this...

She heard the scuff of a boot on the stone behind her and turned slightly, to see Datavian had been silently following along behind her. She gave him a small smile, and he returned it; his was a tired smile, strained, and she wondered again why he'd decided to come – no, not decided, she recalled now, but ordered. Varian had ordered him to come, and had hinted at some request Datavian had made.

As she looked at him, she noticed his gaze flick from hers and rise up to some point high above her right shoulder, and then his eyes widened.

"What-" was all she managed before the mage dove at her, sending them both to the ground, and then the world went frigid and her thoughts ceased.


End file.
